Three-hundred forty? It feels like I must have missed fifteen days in there somewhere.
Anyway, part three of Far-Sighted is up here.
As for the title: apparently, for the last two weeks our box office has had DAILY struggles trying to accommodate this woman who bought out a full house of 149 for this morning's show, then took reservations and money from her group for 180 people, and then asked us if we could just add an extra show an hour and a half early, so we did, but then there was some question about how many would come to each show, and whether they could evenly divide the group, and what time the show stared, and finally yesterday she called to say she had no idea how many people would be coming today.
So predictably, today was a bit rocky at the children's theater.
At the end of the day, one of our box office employees was ranting with our stage manager about the day's goings on in the presence of the mainstage stage manager and myself. Toward the end of the rant, the box office staffer spouts out the contact's name in frustration.
That name sounds familiar...
The MSSM exclaims that she went to high school with that woman's daughter! Uncanny! Then I ask what the daughter's name was, and yeah. I went to college with the same girl. (We compared notes, and yeah, it's the same one)
She's a super-nice girl, just for the record.