Gloriously Embarrassing But A Long Time Ago
The day before yesterday I wrote about how I sent an email to the wrong person, and how relieved I was that it hadn't been much worse.
In the olden days, before the invention of t'interclacker, we had to discover our own ways of making our toes curl with embarrassment.
In 1978 I was doing a postgrad year at the Sherman Theatre in Cardiff, South Wales. The director at the time, whom I shall call George Simpkins, wasn't very popular: in fact he was deeply unpopular.
One day two of the students on my course decided to have an in-depth discussion about him in the lighting box, listing all his failings and analysing each one with gusto.
I was in the theatre, washing the stage, as I was stage-managing some play or other at the time. I enjoyed listening to this conversation as it came booming over the sound system.
Unfortunately the two students concerned had not realised that, firstly, the sound system was switched on, and that, secondly, it was on the setting that broadcast loudly and clearly to every room in the building. Including George Simpkins' office.
The repercussions carried on for some time and were enjoyed by all, except perhaps the two students involved. Ah! Happy days.
In the olden days, before the invention of t'interclacker, we had to discover our own ways of making our toes curl with embarrassment.
In 1978 I was doing a postgrad year at the Sherman Theatre in Cardiff, South Wales. The director at the time, whom I shall call George Simpkins, wasn't very popular: in fact he was deeply unpopular.
One day two of the students on my course decided to have an in-depth discussion about him in the lighting box, listing all his failings and analysing each one with gusto.
I was in the theatre, washing the stage, as I was stage-managing some play or other at the time. I enjoyed listening to this conversation as it came booming over the sound system.
Unfortunately the two students concerned had not realised that, firstly, the sound system was switched on, and that, secondly, it was on the setting that broadcast loudly and clearly to every room in the building. Including George Simpkins' office.
The repercussions carried on for some time and were enjoyed by all, except perhaps the two students involved. Ah! Happy days.
posted by Daphne at 7:00 pm
7 Comments:
Ah! Memories. As a student in Cardiff in the early '70s I used to visit the Sherman - nice theatre.
ooooppps! ycuramw
hehe...no wonder typing the code into the box didn't post the comment! Now the oooops is for my blunder there! I thought I better explain the error or you'd be trying to figure out what code I was talking to you in!
Oh, that's priceless! It's one of those scenarios that you'd think far-fetched if you saw it in a movie, isn't it? I wish I'd been there ... but NOT one of the two students involved. Or the director. I don't want to be him, either. ;)
Washing the stage? That doesn't sound like a stage manager's job to me - it sounds like a cleaner's job! Can you still get degrees in housewifery in Cardiff?
Yes, it was a lovely theatre, Mr Swordfish. Debby - - yes, I've done that too!! Jay - yes, it was both very embarrassing and hilarious at the same time. And, YP, I don't know if washing the stage WAS the stage-manager's job - - but it was a black stage and I liked it to look clean.
Nice.
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