Terrible Theater Etiquette

June 27, 2010

I go to a high school play with my parents and sisters. When we walk into the theater, the curtains are open and we can see the crew setting things up. The set is pretty poor quality, as if it were put together with no plans by people with no experience with building or woodworking.

Mom sees a metal folding chair looking very out of place at the side of the stage, so she sends me up to move it off. Which I do, carrying it across the stage and down the stairs on the other side before setting it down. The band teacher, who is in the audience, scolds me for interrupting the play and ruining the illusion. I go back to where my family is sitting and complain to Mom about how she told me to do something I shouldn't have done, because the chair was an important part of the play and I ruined the play magic by going onstage, and she got me in trouble. Then, the play having started, my parents start yelling out at the people onstage. I go sit on the floor, facing the wall, knees pulled up and arms around my head, embarrassed to be associated with my family, who other members of the audience, possibly including the choir teacher, are yelling at. Nobody appears to be watching the play.

A stage crew member working with lighting occasionally comes out on some balcony up above us to shout rude comments to and about the actors.

Train Station and School

It is evening. I have wasted the day going around on buses and trains, not really accomplishing what I set out to do- which I believe was finding a job. I get off a train at the Murray North Trax station.

There is a group of people there I went to elementary school with years ago. I recently moved back and started school there again. They are gossiping about the other kids, and I mostly sit and listen for a while.

I feel that I am in love with someone who I haven't seen for a while and miss, and I try to think of who that might be. I think maybe it is Darren, who also went to our elementary school but has not returned like the rest of us, and whisper his name, but that doesn't seem quite right.

Then one of the girls asks me what I do, meaning as a job. I don't want to admit that I don't have a regular job, so I answer as though I didn't understand her question by saying, "I wake up, and I brush my teeth, and I eat breakfast- actually, not usually in that order." She responds by saying sarcastically, "Thanks for telling us about your grooming." Or maybe it was hygiene. By this point we are at the elementary school.

Then I realize that something is a little off and say, "We are high schoolers. Why do we go to school at an elementary school?" Jake mentions a theory, but it doesn't really make any sense.