see at least one show you love and at least one you could’ve done without.
have the traditional annual awkward or inappropriate conversation with that one guy.
guiltily apologize to at least one friend for not making it to see their show.
forget to write something down.
have at least three “I know you from the Twitters!” conversations IRL.
join in (or sit in uncomfortable silence during) some sort of audience participation singing.
experience an audience laughing at its own laughter (hopefully including some snorting).
get forced to leave an unintelligible voicemail for a friend while he is sitting right next to you at the bar, drunk enough to know he won’t remember the cool thing you are telling him about. Then post it on his facebook wall when you get home, knowing he won’t be able to hear what you said in the voicemail over his own ruckus bar convo and the pervasive techno bass beat. The next night he thanks you and accidentally calls you Heather.
get awkwardly yet sweetly hugged by the adorable old out of towner one man show performer with an ambiguous accent.
trip on the stage at Gremlin.
get the heebie jeebies from someone’s description of a show you didn’t see.
flirt with the tech.
get stuck sitting by yourself at a table at Fringe Central while waiting for your check.
start to feel ill from staying up til 3 a.m. every night.
give volunteers a blank look of “things are happening outside of the Fringe???” when asked your opinion on the Olympics or Mitt Romney’s running mate choice.
forget to write something else down.
sound like a chirpy daycare teacher when you tell late patrons “you know how frustrating that must feel” as you turn them away.
get fired by Allegra, but only for five minutes.
use up the last of the milk and run out of clean spoons at home. Do nothing about this.
lose your Fringe button at least once.
live tweet about a show that doesn’t actually exist.
drop something that makes an embarrassingly loud crash in the lobby in the middle of a very quiet performance.
slap Josh Carson. Then introduce yourself.
finally remember to write down all the things…on the very last day.
hold your ground when late patrons come up begging you to reopen box office at the exact moment that a shirtless actor covered in fake blood comes out into the lobby, splashes water on himself from the water fountain, and tries to overrule you on the late seating policy before he goes back into the show for his next scene.
Also, I can sum up the 18 shows I saw in one word: BrokenPrincessChairButtonPushingSpiceGirlsDustBowlSelfHelpNosePickingSea-CreaturesinHollywoodCatcoonsYetiVirginiaWoolfSociologyRagebloggingImprovBattle-UndeadDudesAthleticEmbarrassmentsDisembowelmentHelveticavsTrebuchetAngerPony
Originally published at schmlarp.tumblr.com. Image: Curt and Laura Used to Be Good at Gymnastics and Stuff.