Peanut and I had a date today to see a marvelous puppeteer and his marionette vignettes. I found out that P has a 55 minute sit-still threshhold, for at 56 minutes he discreetly stood up and wiggled in place for a few minutes while he watched the puppeteer’s penultimate story. We had terrible seats on the right margin and nobody behind us, so I just watched and smiled.
But that’s not the point, cute though I find it. We have business to attend to. A marketable idea. Make note:
Walking to the will call window, I explained that we were going to pick up our tickets then go to the theater.
P: Do they have little bags there?
M: [confused] There where? The ticket place or the stage place?
P: The stage place. The theater. Do they have little bags?
M: What kind?
P: The kind you need in case someone loses a tooth.
M: Bug, are you worried you’re going to lose a tooth during the performance?
P: [annoyed] No, of course not. My tooth is barely wobbly. I mean for someone else if they lose their tooth.
M: Well, people who are ready to lose a tooth are usually with a grownup, and grownups are good at finding safe places for teeth that fall out. Purses, pockets…
P: No. Not good. They need something tiny. Like a little bag.
So if you run front of house for a theater, or are looking into operating a theater…heck, if you stage manage or operate concessions at all…I’d like to send out a thought that you might want to stock little bags. For the teeth. All the falling teeth.