grumble grumble

Two things to note:
- a supervisor who refers to the Front of House people on duty as "my staff" does not give me fuzzy feelings. Your staff? The hell I am.
- a publicist for a not-that-great show talking down to me about walking people in to a show unticketed (which is illegal and not just asinine) makes me want to scream. Last year I was the authorized signer for two shows' comp allocations - I know how this shit works! Take your ugly boots down to the box office and make them print you a comp for your little friend, I don't care who you are.

On a different note entirely, I finally saw a great show yesterday, called Aeneas Faversham Forever. The costumes and plot echoed a Sherlock Holmes novel, plus a little Count of Monte Cristo, except the script was peppered with anachronisms - "this is awkward" "it's a total sausage fest". Three actors played about ten characters. There were ascots. I got flipped off by the villain for hissing. 'Twas wonderful.

There is another dog who hangs out in the lane sometimes, he is the oh-so-floppy Winston, white and brown cocker spaniel puppy. SO superlatively CUTE. Lola acts like his mother sometimes, but mostly like a big sister. And when Dan the Techie picked me up over his shoulder (I hate when they do that) to carry me back to my post at the top of the lane, Lola went into defense mode and came barking after him. Good girl.