Perfect Dark Week: Day Fast and Fourious

Is this still going on? Sake....

Day 4

09:45 Made it at the buzzer, but Flounder's in today so my efforts are in vain. I've been relegated to the shitty computer for the first time this week. It's barely functional at its best, and smells faintly of sudden cheese. Thus, today's blog takes form as handwritten notes to be transcribed later (yup).

09:51 What's on here on Saturday? A whole lot of "we're not open for another 9 minutes, so ask me then". I'm in an unusually kind mood this morning, so I answer his question now. I will be expecting overtime pay. Nothing on Saturday. No, not on Monday either. That's two questions before we open, so you're pushing it, kindly elder gentleman. No, that's on at a different theatre. It's two doors down. No, I don't know what else they're showing just now. You know who might be able to answer your queries? The people who work two doors down from here. Yeah, I thought we were them too. Imagine my surprise when I came here today and realised I was me, not them. Let's go there together, shall we?

10:00 Ugh. Does the phone system have to make that whining sound? It's really fucking with paid nap-time.

10:44 The Tall Woman enters. She gently raises my hopes of that longed for lifting, then dashes them almost at once. Mocking my hopes and dreams, yet you expect me to sell you these tickets!? Ok, yeah, sure. Is she always so late for work?

10:50 A regular sized woman enters, but I doubt her lifting capabilities. She makes a quite elaborate spectacle of removing her glasses from their case and putting them on her regular sized face. She literally has to walk past me to get to Flounder. We lock eyes as she wordlessly rejects me. Flounder tells her the dates a show is running between, and yet she decides to arbitrarily choose another date to see it two weeks after it's finished. I savour her snub, wearing my smug disdain as a badge of honour upon my face.

11:11 A customer calls to help me break my duck for the day. That really is a weird-ass phrase. She's nice. We telepathically high five.

11:46 Flounder has been scrolling through the facebook history of her fanny of a friend. It's been strangely captivating to hear her read the mundane shite this person...WHAT!?....wait....go back, Flounder. What was that about a wet t-shirt contest? Are there pictures?

11:53 Flounder makes a phone sale, with my energy entirely focussed on Robot Unicorn Attack. Rainbow dash, damn you! Don't you want to become a rhino!?

12:03 Girl standing in the massive, street-facing windows above the macaroon shop across the road is attempting to find the perfect lighting for her selfie. She adjusts, and pouts as required by law. #blessed

12:04 Yes, there is a macaroon shop across the road. And they owe me a promised cake for sorting them out with tickets a couple weeks back. I haven't forgotten our deal, Macaroon Girl!

12:04 "Windows has encountered a critical problem and will restart automatically in one minute. Please save your work now." This message has been displayed for 6 minutes, but the computer has been unable to restart as it's remained frozen. It is the second time this terminal has crashed in just under 15 minutes.

12:05 I casually stroll over to frape Flounder as she heads out for a smoke. She's logged out. Clever girl.

12:09 Mufasa enters with an "a-ha!". He has located a perfect elastic band of mass destruction. The battle lines our drawn, and the ceasefire is at an end.

12:17 We're rewriting Cards Against Humanity to make out own version.

12:19 The terminal only just holds together long enough for me to sell more tickets to an actual living person in the flesh. It's weird to see an outside face. Has summer arrived yet, dear stranger? No? Never? Warmer rain at least.

14:02 Lunch Buttons have happened again.

14:03 "It IS on here! You ARE selling tickets for it! It says it right here in the literature....oh, no it's....". Yeah, that theatre's two doors down, isn't it? It's almost as though we know which theatre we're working in, and what shows we have on. Almost. Applause erupts through the box office as he leaves, to mark a moment of outstanding foolishness.

15:15 "Wish we had box office bunk beds. That'd be so good". Flounder's not used to going this long without a nap. Flounder fucking loves naps. Almost as much as she loves Kanye.

15:50 "I kissed -Cliff Richard and his army of underage Cambodian sex puppets- and I liked it". Yeah, these handwritten cards are a decent addition to the game. We're learning some things about how deep our respective mental sicknesses run.

15:54 So many new cards speak to Cinderella's life outside the box office. "Cinderella's dignity" is tradable.

15:56 Speaking of Cinderella's dignity, I'm not even supposed to be here today. I'm covering her shift, as she couldn't make it. She's met a new fella. He sounds nice. Charlie has really got into her brain. He seems very family orientated, which is a good sign of a caring person I suppose. Anyway, Cinderella's gone to join him in living with them on a farm. Sounds ideal. We've found all the scraps of paper she's scribbled her future married name on when she locks him down. "Cinderella Manson" has a certain ring to it. Maybe this will be the one.

16:05 "And I'm eligible for a discount on those tickets, aren't I? Is that price with my discount?". Jesus, I've not met someone so preoccupied with avoiding cost since Father Ted judged Lovely Girls. "And, there is a discount on that day?". FUCKING YES, OK!? She wanders away, discounted tickets in hand.

16:05 She shambles back. "You gave me my discount, didn't you?". I should be able to decide who gets euthanised in this place.

16:54 And the crafty veteran wins another game via tie-break. Technically, as the two presiding judges couldn't decide a winner, she's won via tie-break within a tie-break. I need to brush up on my rock, paper, scissors skills.

Pocahontas: 10

Mufasa: 9

Mad Hatter: 8

Flounder: 6

17:00 Freebird motherfuckers! Phones are off, disturbing blood red shades are on in spite of the still overcast conditions, and I am out the door to meet my girlfriend and cook some fucking steak.

Time killed mostly with: Writing vile, offensive things and cackling like a witch on morphine.

Total ticket sales
Cinderella: 9
Flounder: 6
Maleficent: 3
Deebs AKA Mad Hatter: 10
Pocahontas: 2
Mufasa: 2

Perfect Dark Week: Elastic Band of Brothers

Preamble So I had a few drinks last night. Not a lot, but enough. And I may definitely have committed a crime.

I went to meet my ex-flatmate for a crafty beer or two, and to collect the stunning amount of post that has accumulated in the nine months since I moved out and didn't get any of my mail redirected. Yet, beforehand, and in complete opposition to the spirit in which he once started a blog to try to teach me basic cooking skills- http://recipesfordeebs.blogspot.co.uk/ - I went to a fast food franchise for my signature Blandy Meal. There were a few obnoxious kids at a table behind and to the right, the youngest of whom was 7 years of pure sugar and he was literally climbing the walls. Also, the fuckers had balloons, and I was exceedingly jealous of this fact. So, I was in a toilet cubicle, and the second I unlocked the door to leave, the door was pushed in against me. Steady on, hombre. The pressure on the door was coming from not a great height, so either a child or an eager midget. It was the wall-climber, and he just stared mindlessly at me as he continually tried to walk through me in this tiny space. No request for space was met with a verbal response, so I eventually just had to try to squeeze past. In short, I had to manoeuvre a child out of my path with my crotch. I crotched a small boy in the side of the head in a fast food bathroom.

Now, onto today.

Day 3

09:42 Working computer again. I'm on a roll. Today's players scheduled are Mad Hatter and Cinderella in the front, Pocahontas and Mufasa in the rear.

10:01 No sign of Cinderella. Not entirely surprising. Should have called her Sleeping Beauty.

10:07 A season ticket sold to a man whose laugh spoke of internal strife and a lifetime of sadness.

10:10 Cinderella has been called. No response. We're starting to gradually come to terms with her likely death. I'll share my thoughts through the day as we reflect on this tragedy. She was always such a lovely....

10:11 ....false alarm. Cinderella has contacted the box office. In an occurrence that is wholly out of character for her (much as sarcasm is for me), she has slept in. Of course, if I was holding someone hostage, I'd probably get her to call in to work with a similarly plausible (on the face of it) excuse. Blink once for "yes", twice for "no", Cinderella!

10:17 The tall woman passes by once more. She promised she'd lift me this time, so I raise my arms accordingly and swivel excitedly in my chair. A squeal escapes my lips. She smiles and gives me the finger. No lift. Devastated.

10:29 A lady enters. She wishes for tickets for a preview. She is two months early. Happens. She was lovely, and I wish her luck with an honest smile as she heads onto the next theatre on her list of places to buy tickets today. 

10:39 Cinderella's pumpkin has pulled up outside. She's free! And she's late as fuck.

10:45 Blue-screened phone system. Surprisingly common occurrence. Floppy disk drive issues.

11:03 Checked the phones by calling the box office. Cinderella answered. We had a brief phone chat sitting side by side. She has a charming phone manner. I didn't buy tickets though.

11:30 Cinderella is calling customers from the problem folder to see if we can resolve issues with their bookings. Old guy can't bear to let his season booking lapse, but he's just not physically up to it anymore. Saddening.

11:35 Cinderella's ears are pricked. What's that song, Mufasa? It's Paul Simon, 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover. I leave this information here with neither comment nor judgement.

11:39 A woman is befuddled. She does a full spin on her heels in the foyer. And another. Our brochure's over here. Nope, not there. Here. Here! IT'S HERE!

11:50 "Good aftern....I mean, morning." First incoming call of the day, and I've already forgotten how to speak. Putting tickets on reserve for the lovely people at a group that books for people with disabilities. Nice folk doing nice things.

12:08 Transport for the elderly and/or infirm pulls up outside. Probably here for us then. Or maybe they fancy a low-quality Chinese buffet. Hope they're not here for that, cos it's been closed down for months now. The local pimps and prostitutes have been going hungry for months.

12:16 London Boys, "Requiem" pulled up on screen, as it was shamefully omitted from yesterday's account of late 80s musical time. The video, near as I can tell, takes place in Tim Burton's bedroom, and features a cross between Crocodile Dundee re-imagined by a dominatrix and Kung Lao from Mortal Kombat. Worth a watch through your fingers.

12:27 Mufasa playing some dynamite choons round the back.

12:29 Third phone call of the day. Previous two were from the same person. This ends much as they did, without purchase.

12:40 Taking advantage of Cinderella's weakened state by using it as an opportunity to crush her spirit and self-belief. I'm not a good man, and it passes the time.

12:41 Post! And a season ticket renewal each for Cinderella, and I. Crucially, there's also one for Mufasa. Mufasa is on the scoreboard with his first sale of the week.

12:48 Someone comes in to confirm the tickets I'd reserved for them earlier, and Cinderella steals the sale.

12:50 "I may legitimately use my lunch break today to have a nap". Cinderella, all over the blog today, is struggling.

12:55 There's talk of baked potatoes from Mavie's in Grassmarket. Mavie has earned his shout-out.

13:35 I give up my computer so Cinderella can complete a sale after her barely functioning computer has crashed. How does she repay me for this kindness? By viciously fraping me while I'm out buying the traditional chocolate Buttons. Apparently, I'm a "Salad Girl" at Hooters in Atlanta, Georgia now, for one thing. Associating me with salad is an abhorrent crime. A grave insult that shall not go without retribution. Sure, I once fraped her as she attended to a first aid emergency, but that was funny.

13:54 "There is no Cinderella, only Zuul". Curious development here, but it seems there's a new man in Cinderella....er....Zuul's life. His name is The Keymaster, apparently. Lovely name. I've asked if they have any cool plans for the weekend. Something about meeting a friend named Gozer? It's nice she's found someone else, and she's clearly happy. She's practically levitating. She doesn't look well though. I'm not sure goths are allowed to be jaundiced.

14:29 Presently engaged in an elastic band flicking war with Mufasa. Battles have been raging for approximately 15 minutes now. War is hell. Well, this is less a war, and more an example of what would happen if the United States started bombing one old man living in assisted care in Margate. I can't get my angles right, and I've been massacred.

14:35 I flinch whenever I hear that telltale ping, and yet my feeble cries for mercy fall on deaf ears. Mufasa truly is a monster.

14:37 As the dust settles, I've not seen this many bands lying around since Cinderella's last party.

14:57 A flock of new recruits arrive from a festival to have a tour of the venue. Not sure if "flock" is the most accurate collective noun for them though. A misery? A misery of new recruits seems more fitting. Problem is, we have a rehearsal going on in the auditorium at the moment. Mufasa sets off to show them everywhere the light touches.

15:31 Fuck it, it's Cards Against Humanity o'clock.

15:44 Cinderella has been routinely unable to finish a sentence without hyperventilating through horrified tears of laughter during this game.

16:03 A woman just wandered in, turned left and walked to the far end of the foyer. In the distance we could hear her asking "Is this the box office?". I'm not sure where she's gone, or who she was talking to, but I think they're bundling her into a van as I type.

16:06 Pocahontas is a dark horse in this game. So dark.

16:07 Everybody seems to have lost their powers of speech. I've not heard this many garbled sentences since the last Frock gig. Frock are Cinderella's band, named because "frock" rhymes with "rock", and girls wear dresses. I'm not making this up.

16:47 And the scores are in. With a last gasp Hail Mary, Pocahontas takes the win courtesy of "Maybe she's born with it. Maybe it's....surprise sex."
Pocahontas: 13
Mad Hatter: 12
Mufasa: 11
Cinderella: 8

17:00 Quick, before the phone rings for the first time in several hours, kill the phones. Put the "closed" signs up, and fuck off home.


Time killed mostly with: Cowering in fear from volleys of elastic bands aimed directly at my eyeballs. Also, the relentless character assassination of Cinderella, even though she's lovely.

Total ticket sales
Cinderella: 9
Flounder: 2
Maleficent: 3
Deebs AKA Mad Hatter: 7
Pocahontas: 2
Mufasa: 2

Perfect Dark Week: Part Deux

The continuing adventures of Box Office Man....and assorted extras, This is the second day of this week's five day blogging challenge to bring you into the world of working in a theatre when there's no shows on. On she rolls....

Day 2

09:40 Functioning computer again. Success. Full cast of characters for today's events are as follows: The Mad Hatter (hey, how ya doin'?), and Maleficent at the front, with boss folk Pocahontas and the returning Mufasa in the back after two weeks of freedom.

09:53 Emails are working today, which is a nice change of pace. A not so short ramble sent just to me by a customer about a matter over which I hold no sway. Sorry mate. Good start.

10:02 A phone call? At this time!? Probably just a wrong number....No! Tickets? I can sell tickets! Customer is clearly mistaken in questioning our pricing for the....wait, he's got a point. Brochure misprint. Balls. Oh well.

10:11 Yes, I see you standing in front of me, trying to catch my attention like I haven't noticed you. You're about a foot from my face, and wearing a hi-vis jacket; trust me, I've spotted you, but I'm kind of in the middle of dealing with a customer's booking right now, so chill. You'll need to go to Stage Door.

10:13 Hark! A spider hath invaded! Maleficent is resisting my urging to kill Cecil, as she has named the bastard arachnid. "He said nasty stuff about your wee boy". A flicker of murderous rage is restrained when she considers the likely falsehood of my statement. So close. The spider lives.

10:29 Maleficent is sneezing. Further updates as the death toll rises.

10:30 A really tall lady just walked by the box office, waving heroically. As I know the really tall lady in question, I basically thrust my arms in the air like a child wanting to be picked up in response. She was outside and in motion so she did not lift me. Shame.

10:31 People are now starting to request changes to their self chosen Disney aliases. These things are binding, folks.

11:14 New show on sale. It's about films and stuff. I love films and stuff! Couple of seats on reserve for me so.

11:36 "Hi there? I was just speaking to a colleague of yours? She was a woman?". The upward inflection at the end of your sentences makes you sound very uncertain of certainties, madam?

12:03 We're now all gathered around a screen to watch cringe-worthy late 80s/early 90s music videos. Angry Anderson's Suddenly and East 17's It's Alright are so shockingly fucking enthralling.

12:11 Boyzone? I draw the line!

12:28 Boyzone dancing on the Late Late. This is....it's not good.

13:06 A call from [company name], confirming yesterday's reservation. Traci making the call today, but no mention of the fact that the call may be recorded for training purposes. They're slipping.

13:08 The first mention of an occurrence that is all too common here- an auld lad approaching the locked doors with a sign on them saying "Please use other entrance door". There's even a big red arrow pointing to the unlocked double doors beside them. In addition to being unlocked, these doors are wide open at present. He chooses to ignore this and vigorously shake the locked doors. We make eye contact. His face wordlessly pleads for me to grant him entrance to our theatre, as I simply point to the wide open space to his left. He instead fixes his gaze on the sign displaying our opening times, and checks his watch. Yep, we are supposed to be open right now. Indeed, we are open. There's an entrance beside you with children running in and out of it. He walks past them to the next set of locked doors.

13:10 Our confused potential customer has found his way inside, more through luck than judgement. Has he booked his season ticket already? Yes, he sure has. Grand so, and he's off. He walks to the locked doors and gives them a futile shake, before a gust of wind mercifully guides him out.

13:22 "I can't help you with that. Please call Stage Door."

13:30 Lunch. This won't be pleasant.

13:39 "Why are you not dead?" Mufasa booms. I reckon this means my frequent lunch choice of Buttons and crisps is not seen as an entirely health conscious choice.

14:11 The first grumbled mentions of playing Cards Against Humanity to kill time.

14:13 I have received a call from a woman who is clearly trapped inside a washing machine. Maybe it's just a bad connection? "IT'S JUST MAH PHONE'S MICROPHONE!" she bellows. She wants to know ticket prices for an upcoming show. "HOW MUCH!? AH'M NO AFFORDIN' THAT!". And just as quickly as she entered my life, she was gone. I'll miss the beautiful timbre of her voice most of all.

14:15 Mufasa is off to the shops to buy chocolate. A chant of "Mufasa's a hero!" fills the box office for all too brief a time.

14:18 Mufasa has decided against going out. You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself to become the bastard who cried "chocolate".

14:19 Pocahontas is off to buy biscuits for the box office. Unlike that fake hero from earlier who broke our hearts, she follows through.

14:28 BISCUITS HAVE RETURNED! Also Pocahontas. And thus, Cards Against Humanity is afoot.

14:36 Incest card. Boom!

15:09 Many of these cards remind me of Cinderella's romantic endeavours. Like that one time she had a fling with the spiritual manifestation of the Japanese concept of loneliness, and he was pretty chill. Frankly we all expected that to be quite rough, but when it ended he was really cool about it. An all round good guy, really. We're all still friends with him, and think that, for an existential construct,  he could have done a lot better than Cinderella anyway.

16:08 Well this got dark, surprising no-one.  Courtesy of Cards Against Humanity's prompting- Vladimir Putin's favourite meal? Glory holes stuffed with the heart of a child.

16:14 Customer! Bertie Big Bollocks over here's just gone and sold a couple of tickets for a show in October. Get in! Still, if you confess that your attempts to book online have been hamstrung by your own inability to work "the bloody personal computer", maybe it's best not to take on a snarky tone when I read your address back to you and it turns out to be incorrect. The address that YOU ENTERED!

16:15 Game on!

16:48 And the final scores are in from today's Cards Against Humanity extravaganza:
Mufasa- 20
Mad Hatter- 11
Pocahontas- 6
Maleficent- 6

Good hustle, everybody. There has been a quantifiable increase in euphemisms and inappropriate humour marking Mufasa's return to the pride today. It being a coincidence is highly unlikely.

16:58 And like clockwork, one arrives. Sorry Maleficent, but you've got a customer.

17:00 Screw solidarity, I'm out of here. Phones are off, doors are closed. Mad Hatter out. Til tomorrow.

Time killed mostly with: So many horrible jokes about children.

Total ticket sales
Cinderella: 4
Flounder: 2
Maleficent: 3
Deebs AKA Mad Hatter: 5
Pocahontas: 2
Mufasa: 0

Perfect Dark Week: Origins

Another full week of box office theatre begins. I've told stories about the weird shit that crops up in this line of work before, but I don't feel that those outside it truly get what our days entail. So here goes the documentary process. One week in a theatre with no shows on. Welcome to my world.

DAY 1

09:39 Starting off on the right foot this week. Made it in time to use the computer that works. Boomtown!

10:00 The phones are on, the "closed" signs are down and we are all set for a big day at box office.

11:14 We just checked the phones to make sure they're working. They are. Still no calls.

11:23 RIIIING! Phone call! It's an internal call from the offices across the road. Apparently I'm to "Ask if that's done it". Done what? "She'll know". Well that was cryptic and helpful. Thank you.

11:28 We have a walk-in. Just about. Old lady with a walking frame wants two tickets for "the first show". She doesn't know what it's called. Bad start, She wants to go "for the Friday". Not getting better. Seats in the "upper grand circle". Shit, this is a terminal case. "For one of the £10 ticket nights". Christ, she's talking about the previews isn't she? She's 2 months early. They don't go on sale til mid-August. She'll be back, unless there's a sudden cold snap.

11:40 A renewal of a season ticket received through the post. They want the same seats as they had last year. They're a month and a half past the point where we'd hold their seats for them. Decent seats too. Centre stalls. HA! Good luck....fuck. How? Lucky bastards.

11:48 Some finance guy came in to the box office to tell me about....some finance stuff. Lots of nodding, and eye contact until he went away. Gave him the phone number of the people who would actually have anything to do with what he may or may not have been talking about. He came back to ask my name. The over-familiarity of it is galling.

12:07 Spoke with colleague about the tatters of her social life. Let's call her Cinderella. Seems she's dating a scarecrow made flesh by the whims of a demented wizard now. Brought to life to serve as his retribution against a world that has dared preach feminism, and who shall pluck out the eyes of all who stand quivering before him. Good for her. He may be the enchanted nightmares of a thousand screaming children, and clearly enjoys disemboweling crows for The Watch, but he does play a mean mandolin.

12:18  An old lady enters the foyer. Time stands still as we pray her vision is based on movement. Alas, no, and she has ruined youtube time in boxo. She rejects me, and chooses Cinderella. It stings. She just wants our brochure. Cinderella tells her where it is, and helpfully points to the location. I parrot Cinderella's words just to feel like I belong. The old lady is confused by rudimentary direction. She is lost now, brochureless and possibly in Narnia.

12:30 LUNCH! Chocolate Buttons and crisps. Healthy as fuck.

13.34 First real customer. She was collecting tickets for our Christmas show, and handed me her confirmation print-out without looking at me. She merely grunted. Her face looked as though I'd just stolen her last Rolo....and had sex with it in front of her. Man, I want more chocolate now.

14:09 The Rain Gods have made their displeasure known. Or is rain the sign of a happy Rain God? Fuckers must either hate or love Scotland so. Watching women in too high heels stumble awkwardly past with jackets over their heads. If your jacket barely reaches the bottom of your neck when placed over your head, it's not a fucking jacket! Still, this probably means there's graduations on next door.

14:16 Human contact from the outside world! A very confused young lady wants to know why she hasn't heard back about front of house recruitment. The painful journey from beginning to end of our conversation tells me she likely has not been hired for reasons of chronic cretenism, but I can't help I'm afraid. Stage Door.

14:25 "Scarecrow don't have no babies to pay for. Least not that I know of.". Oh Cinderella.

14:37 Kind of worried that my other colleague hasn't made a sound all day. Hope she's not dead. Checked with her. She's not dead. Sticking with the Disney theme, she shall be known as Flounder. Flounder's alive, likely dreaming of being Kanye.

14:50 The seagulls are massing outside the glass facade of the box office. They're plotting. If you're unfamiliar with the nature of Edinburgh seagulls, think Hitler with wings. Fuckers are just striving to find a Final Solution for all of us.

14:53 Further seagulls are approaching the original winged Hitlers. Shit's about to go down. I can tell they're not on the same page by the general West Side Story vibes being given off. The interlopers are clicking rhythmically.

14:55 Aladdin has ventured across from the offices to conduct an interview with a soon to arrive cast member from one of our upcoming shows. He comments upon my "famous wit". I've always liked that man. Charming and intuitive. Cinderella disagrees with his statement. Not on the "wit" part though, just the level of notoriety it has attained. The consensus is my delightful humour should be world-renowned by now.

15:06 Aladdin still awaits his interview subject. She is evidently running late. Al has now been gripped by morbid curiosity over what a seagull has dropped outside. The working theory is "some meat". Cinderella's suggestion that the offending "meat" be captured for posterity on Instagram has fallen on deaf ears.

15:11 "This is probably a stupid question....". A solid 40% of calls start with a customer saying that, and a far greater percentage would be accurate if they did. She was pleasant though, so that''s nice. Didn't buy any tickets, mind.

15:19 Did some filing. It's all go here.

15:29 "Can't help you with that, I'm afraid. I can give you the number for Stage Door. No, I understand that. Yes, that is unfortunate. This is still nothing I can help with. I can still give you the number for Stage Door". And repeat.

15:40 "Hi there, this is Andi from [company name]. How are you today?"

"Well, Andi, I'm...."
"That's great. Just so you're aware, our calls may be recorded for training purposes."

 Andi proceeds to not buy tickets.

15:46 We've had a genuinely almost busy 20 minutes. Which is to say we've had about 5 calls between us. I think I need to lie down.

15:48 Face to face communication with an outsider. Yes, the youth theatre are rehearsing across the road. You're welcome. It's been a pleasure. Come again.

15:56 A woman enters, and proceeds directly to the leaflet stands. A nervous tension settles within the box office. Youtube is silenced. She may be a customer. She may be a seagull. We may never kn....oh, wait, she's just a woman looking to get out of the rain. Not a seagull. I repeat, not a seagull.

15:57 Probably not a seagull.

15:59 High point of the day- a dog has entered the foyer. She is cute, even if she is a poodle. Poodles are famously evil. A middle-aged lady is speaking to her in tongues, as another lady (Friend? Enemy?) mimics the dog.

16:04  A child nearby is masking his boredom through fart-trumpeting with his stupid little mouth. His mother has abandoned him. Good for her.

16:25 Is that SuBo outside!?

16:30 Should I grow mutton chops?

16:43 Maybe phones don't actually ring. Maybe customers don't actually exist. Maybe I don't actually exist. DO I REALLY EXIST!?

16:46 There's an old lady outside with the legs of a teenager. I mean, she's got the tiny, frail bird body of an elderly woman, complete with one of those heads that looks like it belongs to a novelty bobblehead toy sitting on someone's desk somewhere nodding at them as they relay another tale of how Margaret doesn't really understand them or their love of model World War II planes. Dude, Margaret doesn't love you anymore. She loves Tom. They've been at it for months. She resents you. You and that stupid vasectomy you had. Margaret wants a fucking family, Gerald! Anyway, this old dame. Her legs are like twice as long as her torso, and rippling with youthful muscle and sheen. It's quite disconcerting. I need to stop staring.

16:54 The home stretch. We can almost taste freedom. That's why the final 5 minutes of the day are so dangerous. You're nearly safe, but you know that, statistically speaking this is the time you are most likely to get a really difficult and annoyingly convoluted call to deal with*.

*citation needed

16:56 Checked in with Flounder. She hit her head against an open cabinet, and tripped over a ladder, but she's alive.

17:00 Slide my chair on over to the computer that controls our phone system, pray the floppy disk drive doesn't crash and shut it down. Home time! And tomorrow, we do it all over again.

Time killed mostly with: Reading football transfer gossip.

Total ticket sales
Cinderella: 4
Flounder: 2
Deebs: 1
Pocahontas: 1