talesfromthetraproom - Tumblr blog

[talesfromthetraproom]

“If you lost a truss, it might be on the roof. A roof. Possibly our roof. How big is your ladder?”

-if PM weren’t actively talking over the person I’m supposed to be listening to for line cues, this would be funny.

[talesfromthetraproom]

“What the hell was the last designer thinking?? This plot is a mess!“

*pause, for realization*

“…ah, right. Yes. The last designer was- that was me. I’ve done this to myself. The snake consumes its own tail”

[talesfromthetraproom]

I would like it to be noted that I am still vacuuming purple confetti stars out of my carpet from those stupid candy gift bags that one of the dance studios gave us over a month ago after we hosted their recital weekend.

This is displeasing to me (but the candy was worth it)

[talesfromthetraproom]

How the Most Harmless Tech Got Her Criminal Reputation

Cast:

LX

The Closest Thing we Have to a House Crew (Myself and C)

Today's Tale Brought to You By:

Constantly Contemplating the Cons of Committing Capital Crimes

A Kidnapping Attempt Gone Horribly Wrong

Inappropriate Usage of Tie Line

If I had a nickel for every time LX has been solely and unquestionably responsible for getting me sick, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot but it's enough for me to plot his untimely demise, right?

The first time this happens, I find myself sitting at the FoH lighting console at 10 am on a random Tuesday morning in April, watching with a growing sense of dread as I am steadily encroached upon by somewhere on the order of 700 snotty-nosed elementary school children. Sensing my impending doom and knowing exactly who to blame for it, I text my best friend C at some point during house open.

"C, how annoyed would you be if I strangled LX?"

"Do not murder LX until after the next theater dept show. I need him."

(It's worth noting that in addition to being concert hall crew and also being younger than me, C alternates roles as Production Electrician and LX designer for the theater dept).

Unfortunately, fair enough. I wouldn't dare sabotage The Roles We Play over a pair of swollen sinuses. A week goes by and, now more or less recovered, I attend a board game night at which I get my ass repeatedly handed to me by one of the show's electricians. So I text C again.

"C, how annoyed would you be if I strangled this guy?"

"Do not murder him. He's actually half competent at his job. I need him."

Party pooper.

Are you sensing a pattern? Because I'm sensing a pattern. Suitably annoyed, I text back.

"Well, fine then. If you won't let me crime anyone else, I suppose I'll just have to crime you!"

"You can't crime me, I'm too busy."

Challenge accepted.

Note the use of the word "crime" here. I have no intention of threatening my best friend with murder - however jokingly - but generalized crime? Crime is never off the table. Somewhat arbitrarily, I decide kidnapping is my weapon of choice.

Thus begins the dance as I spend an inordinate amount of time and energy over the following month attempting time and again to kidnap C with all the success of a cartoon villain. I try bribing him with pizza. I try scooping him up on his walk home from work. I try jumping him in the lobby of the building we live in together. I try enlisting the incredibly enthusiastic help of several mutual friends. He is always one step ahead of me, always with an excuse and a smirk and a "tsk, you're not being aggressive enough".

——————

At some point in early May, C and I are let out of work earlier than anticipated. I must be telegraphing my eagerness to execute the latest of my dastardly plans, because LX notices something is up.

“What’s got you in such a hurry, Wynn?”

“Oh you know…things to do, people to see, crimes to commit”

Mistake.

LX immediately knows two things: 1) I’m up to something mischievous, and 2) that mischief somehow involves his other favorite tech that is currently giving me a suspicious side eye and edging slowly out the stage door.

“You can’t murder C, Wynn. I need him until like…June.”

Oh god, not you too.

That day, I get all the way home with the PM’s set of master keys before discovering they are even in my pocket. The kidnapping attempt, of course, still fails and C is now of the strong opinion that my criminal skills “need some serious work”.

LX, meanwhile, is sprinting away with the joke. Within a week he has a brand new rule: “No murder at the Arts Center” he repeats incessantly, every time I so much as give another tech a sideways glance. Within two weeks the theater dept crew has refined this rule to allow a “donut of allowed murder”; basically instating that nobody is allowed to murder in the arts center or on the university’s campus, but so long as its within city limits on our side of the river it’s okay. This places (I suspect intentionally) the building that C and I have just moved into in disputed territory, as it is “owned” by the university but located a few blocks north of campus limits. Heated arguments ensue.

I would like to remind the reader at this point that I was not intent on murdering anyone but instead conveyed a vague need for general crime, and all interpretations of that statement are in no way my responsibility.

I never did get away with kidnapping, and eventually was forced to give up the ghost when C went home for the rest of the summer to visit his parents. I’d hazard a guess that in the absence of other student techs and more sporadic work, it’s been about a month since I’ve heard the phrase “Wynn No Murder” in a warning tone out of LX’s mouth or been bonked over the head with the designated “Wynn No Murder” stick. But the stick still exists, and the students return in less than a month…

To Be Continued.

[talesfromthetraproom]

There’s something unapologetically peaceful about being completely alone in an empty theatre.

No I’m not hopelessly bored waiting for the AI nerds to clear out of the lobby so I can do my job, why do you ask?

[talesfromthetraproom]

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, but if they exam goes so horribly that you just wanna not come in and spend the rest of the day drinking let me know”

-now that’s a good HR manager. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I’m not even going to take the exam until after work, and also I don’t drink. It’s the thought that counts.

[talesfromthetraproom]

The Stage Techs Play Electrician for a Day, and Encounter the Wall That Eats All Things

Setting:

Concert Hall. 12 noon (the trouble apparently began before this, but I came in at 12 because my morning involved falling asleep in a computer science lecture and getting my toilet fixed).

Cast:

The student crew (Me)

The union crew (Grumpy, Twin, and Loud)

The supervisors (PM, LX, and Video)

Today's Tale Brought to You By:

A Highly Suspicious Amount of Silence

An Overengineered Game of Snakes and Ladders

The Prospect of Spiders

Really Bad Building Design (and No One is Surprised)

The object of the game: take these ethernet cables, and run them from one side of the audience to the other through the wall that separates the grand tier from the orchestra. Shouldn't be too difficult, right? Right? Wrong. When I arrived on the scene, Video, Loud, and Twin were already mostly defeated and staring at the wall like they might suddenly develop XRay vision.

Several Hours and a Multitude of Plan Bs later, we have the following collection of highlights (in no particular order):

Twin: "Quit telling me about the habitat preferences of venomous spiders when I have my hand shoved halfway up an electrical box!" Me: "I thought the warning both timely and necessary, excuuse me"

LX: [Shop Teacher], you have to understand that University students are complete idiots. Not you though, Wynn. Me (flipping him off over my shoulder): You still wouldn't trust me with a welder, to be fair. Shop Teacher: I would! LX: You shouldn't. She frequently threatens to murder people.

Video: "While I truly appreciate that PM found our missing conduits, is no one going to point out that he also ripped the entire cable box out of the wall? No? Just me? Is anyone thinking about how the cable box is gong back into the wall? No? Just me?"

Loud: "I suddenly feel the need to point out that I told you I could rip this box apart. At absolutely no point did I tell you that I could put it back together and I am in no way liable for what PM decides to do with that information."

Video: "Hey LX. Can we cut one of your network cables and use it as a guide wire?" LX: "That would be an incredibly expensive mistake." Video: "On the contrary I'm willing to bet it's about the least expensive mistake we've made today."

PM: "What's going on out here? Wynn said my presence was requested, and I believe she used the word 'shitshow' so it's gotta be serious." Loud: "Yeah. How mad would you be if we cut a slightly larger hole in this wall?"

LX: "Wynn, go turn off the footlights before PM blinds himself. They're the switch backstage that is labelled 'DO NOT TURN OFF'. Don't give me that look."

PM: "Hey Wynn you have little hands, come feel around behind this box and see if you can find the conduit." LX: "What, so we can now have two cables, a broken pull line, the retrieving snake, and Wynn's arm stuck in the wall???" PM (ignoring him): "Out of curiosity, when was your last tetanus shot?"

LX: "Oh Grumpy? Watch out for the fire alarm sensors up there, an evacuation is the last thing we need today. They're white and look like laser emitte-" *BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.* LX: "....yeah. Those ones." There are certain perks to being located directly across the street from the University Emergency Services building.

In the end and thanks to dumb luck, we did get the cable run all the way through the wall and out the other side. The concert hall, rather than being recording-ready for tomorrow, rather looks like a tornado went through the grand tier. LX got absolutely nothing done that he needed to do today. Half of the face plate screws went missing in the chaos. But I got away with only a few scrapes on my arms, and nobody encountered venomous spiders (though I'm not sure Twin will ever forgive me for that one). I think we all learned a few lessons, and gained a new level of respect for our fellow tradesmen.

[talesfromthetraproom]

Where Do the Tales Come From? And Other Pre-emptive Questions

Who am I?

My name is formally Wynett Lapour; most everyone calls me Wynnie or Wynn. I am a 21-year-old University senior studying at a small private institution in the US - in the spring, I will graduate with bachelor's degrees in Chemistry and Physics.

Where do the Tales come from?

For the past three years, I have scraped up a living of sorts by working part-time as a stagehand at the performing arts center adjacent to the University. It might not pay much, but I love my job immensely for all of the skills I've learned, the connections I've forged, and the memories I've made. The Tales From the Trap Room are a collection of my favorite stories from the theater industry, shared here because I think I'm hilarious (and one of the Production Managers follows my Twitter account).

What is a Trap Room?

In theater a trap room is defined as the large open space underneath a stage, sometimes allowing access to the stage from below. In smaller theaters or concert halls - like the ones I usually work on - the space is used mostly for reasonably accessible storage of very large items. I would not recommend being in a trap room while there are tap dancers performing on the stage unless you happen to enjoy feeling like the building might come down around your ears. It is a wonderful place, however, to find stories.

Index of Titles and Abbreviations:

PM: Production Manager. For my purposes, the guy in charge (though I suspect that is less for his title and more due to his being the only surviving staff member from when the building opened). Laid back, Cool Uncle Energy.

SM: Stage Manager. Though she is technically also a Production Manager, the SM is less likely to appear during purely technical calls. Also referred to as Work Mom. "If you die I'll resurrect you just to kill you myself" energy.

LX: Lighting. Technically, LX stands for "electrics" though I only ever use it to refer to all things lighting. Mostly used to refer to the building's lighting coordinator, an arrogant unapologetic smartass that is frustratingly Always Right About Everything.

SL/SR/SD/SU: Stage left, Stage right, Downstage, Upstage. Stage-oriented directions.

HL/HR: House left, House right. Audience-oriented directions.

FOH: Front of House. Refers either to the people that deal directly with theater patrons (ushers, box office, etc.), or the tech equipment that is by necessity or otherwise located in the audience (or house).