Intermission

I haven't done many shows with intermissions and I certainly haven't been on stage for a relatively relaxed intermission for a long time.  For this show, I was given a costume (a store bought, somewhat plastic costume) and tasked with all the on stage scene shifts.  Also, the audience comes so close to the edge of the stage that they can - and sometimes the trashy people do - prop their feet on the stage.  When it comes to audiences, the interesting things happy at intermission.

The theatre offers assisted listening devices to the hard of hearing, but you are supposed to remove and turn off your hearing aid when you use them.  Well, one night a lady sitting in the center of the front row neglected to turn off her hearing aid so during the entire first act there was a constant beeping.  It drove the actors crazy, but the house manager couldn't get to her until intermission.  During the scene change I went much slower than usual so that I could listen in.  The conversation went something like this:

 
House Manager: Hello, ma'am.  When you take your hearing aid out during the show, could you please turn it off? 
Patron: It was turned off.
House Manager: It was beeping during the show.
Patron removes hearing aid and messes with it.  It beeps.
Patron: It's off now.
It beeps.
House Manager: It's beeping right now.
It beeps twice.
Patron: No, it's turned off.
It beeps.
House Manager: There it is.  It's beeping.
It beeps twice.
Patron: Well, I don't hear anything!

Um.  May I point out that you wear a hearing aid for a reason?
(Fortunately, it was somehow turned off for Act 2.)

By far the worst for me was last night.  Some man was very interested in the set and took intermission as an opportunity to get right up close and try to show off for his friend (for a second I thought he had actually come on stage, but fortunately he held back from doing that.  The stage's personal bubble was definitely invaded though.)  All of a sudden, he's exclaiming and laughing about something that doesn't belong.  Then he mentions that it is moving.  Horrified, I look over and sure enough it is a cockroach of all things.  Well.  I can't very well leave it there, but I hate them extraordinarily.  I normally spray them with flying bug spray and vacuum them away.  Stamping and picking up is not to be considered.  Well.  I took my time and went through my routine (working in the other room first).  Meanwhile, the man has his cell phone out and is taking pictures of the cockroach (um?).  When it was no longer avoidable, I walked to the edge of the stage and gave a solid stamp.  Much as I did not enjoy my costume, I was grateful for the solid, hard soled shoes I had available for the killing.  I then collected about four paper towels and wrapped them up inside a hand towel that I could take on stage and carried the gross thing off.  Bleagh.  The joys of intermission.