I was asked to write about what it was like when I used to be the production manager of the children's theatre. I'll try! I admit, I block a lot of it out.



It was my dream job and the worst experience I've ever had in the theatre, and I've had some crazy ass experiences. It really hit home for me why there are actor and technician unions, and I flat out will never work in a non-union shop that does not keep union rules ever again.

Let me throw some jargon and history down for you.

I grew up and spent most of my professional life in North Carolina, a right to work state. I worked in regional theatres in NC and in several other areas down South (Georgia, Alabama, and Texas, to name a few). Many regional theatres are not actually unionized, meaning that you are not required to be part of the many different actor or tech unions, but you can be a member of the union and still work there. It means a different rate of pay, non-union shops can only have so many union workers vs non-union, and there are lots of other specific details. But, even though they were non-union, they kept union rules. Meaning, this is when you take a break in rehearsal, this is how list or much you can pay someone, these are the expectations and timelines that management must give if you are fired or your contact is up. This is how long someone can work you a day, because even in a union shop, you end up pulling 12-16 hour days right before a show goes up if there is a technical issue.

Theatre and companies are normally fairly good about running tight ships when it comes to these things because if word of mouth gets through the (very small) professional network that your company works their people to the bone, no one wants to work for you. Actors and techies, no matter how hungry, don't want to sign a year long contract to a company that is blacklisted because they forget to pay their employees some weeks.

I was fresh from school, used to making the assumption that people would not take advantage of me, and just so freaking happy to not only get a job, but a job in my field, I didn't listen to the warnings I got before I took the job. It should have told me something that I was told the company hires someone new in my old position every six months. That the company was really desperate for new blood because their regular stock of actors were getting old (all in their late 30s to 40s). That the company was "very recently non-union" (I found out later they lost all of their union accreditation from multiple years of health and safety violations along with refusing to pay their dues).

I loved what I did. I managed the touring companies, talked with the stage managers every day to get them off the edge, problem solved things like "our Very Special electrical plug has stopped working, and we're in Idaho" and called in favors to get things flown in from LA.

Once, we were building the set, and the several hundred pound arch piece toppled from a good story to the stage floor. I caught an end of the thing so one of my actors wasn't crushed into a dramatic little pulp. I got the nickname Wonder Woman after that. I came home and passed out on the couch while muttering crazy things at my housemates and the cats (...this was slightly different from normal?).

I hate touring. You have to have a very specific personality to enjoy being trapped in a moving vehicle for at least six hours every day with the same group of people for the last six months, going to a new location every few days and living in a hotel room with no ability to cook for yourself. I love the show and the performance, but I hate touring.

I would regularly have the conversation that went "the space doesn't have an elevator" or "there is no loading ramp and we can't park the truck less than a mile from the theatre". THINK FAST, FEATHER, IT'S 7AM! That was always fun.

I was always on call. I was also the only one in management that people knew I would pick up the phone in an emergency. There were so many sobbing 3am phone calls. Once, one of the actors had a mass seizure brought on by stress and exhaustion, and even though it was not my place, I had to make the call of how to shuffle the understudies because NO ONE ELSE would pick their damn phone at 4 in the morning before a Disney show. It was even more fun when a tech went on a drunken bender and knocked out the lead actor with a show in four hours. FUN TIMES.

One of my favorite stories that people ask me to repeat (okay, mostly my roommate Gen that asks because she is fascinated by the logic trap) is the hornet's nest. If you've lived in the country and ever driven a pick up, you might know this, too. But hornets and other nest builders like to build nests next to the exhaust pipes of larger vehicles. It's warm and nothing bothers you.

I got a call from a stage manager, my rock star that was unflappable and sane (there was the Neurotic One, the Inexperienced One, and the One Dealing With Crazy Even For Actors One).

Stage Manager: Hi. There's a hive of some kind under the truck. What should we do?
Me: Ahaha, really? It will fall off if you drive it around. Just don't hit with sticks, okay?
Stage Manager: ...
Me: ...the actors are hitting it with a stick, aren't they?
Stage Manager: Well, not any more!

There was a lot of stuff like that, little things that cracked me up every time. At one point, I was on the phone while a different company was measuring an overpass in the rain, after they had gotten lost. There was some cheer-leading towers happening. Multi-axis trucks don't fit under parkway overpasses, in case you were curious! I know because, just before I started there, two actors had managed to get a truck stuck under an overpass going 50mph on a road that did not allow trucks! The overpass won, if you were curious.

I would drive a big rig in four inch heels and designer dresses. I dangled upside down from a catwalk with an electrician holding my ankles to angle a light that had gotten knocked severely out of place. I would build two story sets, be covered in filth and grime, and work seven days a week.

I loved my job itself, but I hated the company. I was asked to do things that we all knew were illegal, so I would just pretend I didn't hear the order. I considered seriously and on multiple occasions sticking rat poison in my boss' coffee, especially after I found out she had stolen money from the budgets. I felt sorry for the actors, trapped in a situation they had to live with and no control. Only job I ever quit with no plan other than, if I stayed, I would have lost it (or gotten hurt).

I miss that sort of life, now. I can't explain it to people. You can't relate to it unless you've lived it. But, at the same time, I take my Michael Scott boss over my ex-crazy as fuck boss any day.



I'll do a post with funny stories another time to make up for the lack here!