Was I Not Supposed To Touch That?

Among theatre people, normal societal rules tend to dissolve and make room for interactions that are generally not spoken of in polite company.

But first, the term "theatre people" should be clarified. There are many who may call themselves theatre people because they enjoy watching shows, and make a five-star audience member. But this generalization does not include those ninnies, who more often than not watch so that they can make broad statements and seemingly acute judgments about people based on a talent that they have never truly experienced, and therefore know nothing about.

No offense, ninnies. Keep coming to our shows. Without ninnies, we have no audiences.

However, for the purpose of this generalization, we shall say that "theatre people" are only those who actively participate in the art of theatre, and therefore are subject to all of the habitual antics of the backstage and sidestage and onstage areas.

We don't have boundaries.

Putting on your bloomers in a room of crowded people, trying to fit as many small children as you can under your hoop skirt, and undressing each other in the hallway because you're bored and it sounds like fun are all perfectly acceptable, and by and large entertaining things to do.

(See what I mean about not talking about these interactions in polite company?) 

But while we are perfectly comfortable making pillows out of the people around us, it is a generally unspoken  rule that if what your hand comes in contact with is not something that you would ever see or ever want to see unclothed, the flimsy boundaries that have been heretofore so transparently constructed will snap like a cheap piece of knock-off Scotch tape and it will not be pleasant.

That being said, when an actress changes outfits in the hallway on more than one occasion and has a helper each time, she should not, under any circumstances, wear a thong.

You need to put on a wedding dress? Great. My hands are trained to touch the fabric and the zipper of that dress, nothing else. My knuckle brushes your back? Whatever. Shit happens. I can't get the zipper to close and I accidentally zip up your skin? Who cares, it will stop bleeding eventually, and unless you're a hemophiliac you'll be fine. My finger touches your bare ass? THE FUCK. NOT OKAY.

I mean, come on. A hallway is a public place, with the potential for just about anyone to see you there. Could be a girl, could be a guy, could be a customer, could be a creepy homeless man who came from the halfway house down the street so he could "use the phone." Who knows? And unless you really want the hobo from the corner of 1st Street seeing your butt, I suggest you cover those sweet cheeks up pronto.

There is a long list of things that theatre people will do that probably should be unnerving but come as naturally to us as dropping a baby. Touching your ass cheeks? 

Not one of them.