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We techies are just a bunch of fun-loving, big-bottomed anarchists who somehow manage to get everything done despite our reluctance to do anything even remotely resembling work. Everybody depends on us to build the sets, sell the tickets, run the lights for them, and open up cans o' whoopass on unruly audience members. It's a nice existence, but if we told them that they'd make it significantly less so. I think a certain young immortal will fit in smashingly.

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Here’s some required reading:

ALL I REALLY NEED TO KNOW I LEARNED FROM MY TIME AS A TECHIE

Don't get too attached to material things, sooner or later they all end up covered in paint 

One can never have too many meaningless titles 

You can lead a full, healthy life without ever leaving the theater 

Endless hours of amusement can be gleaned from some very unlikely things (Example: a single, scuzzy old throat lozenge)

No excuse to get out of class is too insignificant or too silly 

A housewife's work is never done 

Always carry an extra set of clothes with you 

Near-death experiences never fail to bring people together 

Triangle Hell – whatever that means - is a BAD place to be 

Sweeping the floors can be a good way to relieve stress 

Sawdust can get stuck in the durndest places 

Faking an English accent isn't half as hard as it looks

It doesn't pay to be afraid of heights

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The set shop is where we build the scenery. There we get to play with paint, wood, and power tools. As the shop housewife I'm forever sweeping the floor to keep the perpetual layer of sawdust at bay. It's a smelly, filthy place, but it's where the magic happens. The only black feather is the numerous papercuts, bruises, bumps, splinters, scrapes, gashes, drills through the hand, banged shins, black thumbs, and sawed-off fingers that we acquire on the job, but someone we know doesn't have to worry about all that.

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Sorry to disappoint you, but the box office isn't half as exciting, or constructive. The theory that there is no such thing as a stupid question is disproved every time the phone rings. Here we sell the tickets and watch the aforementioned phones (to answer the aforementioned stupid questions). It takes less than a day to train for any of the positions, and we only come here when necessary. Here's a little bonus

TOP TEN STUPIDEST QUESTIONS PEOPLE HAVE ASKED TO BOX OFFICE PERSONNEL

10. I know it's sold out, but is there standing room available?

9. Am I speaking to a real person or a machine?

8. I need directions from West Virginia …

7. Could you hold my coat while I watch the show?

6. I realize it says no reservations, but can you save five seats for me on Saturday?

5. Can you hold these tickets for Bill? Do you know Bill?

4. Why aren’t they seating us yet?

3. Are these seats that are blackened in available, or are they sold?

2. Can I exchange these?

AND THE NUMBER ONE STUPIDEST QUESTION ASKED TO THE B.O.

1. Are my friends here yet?

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Ahhh, the catwalks! Where it doesn't pay to be afraid of heights. It's pretty straightforward, a slew of metal welded in pathways to the ceiling twenty to thirty feet above the stage. This is where near-death experiences occur most frequently (the second-most happen in set shop). We use the catwalks to gain easier access to the lights and to get to the lighting booth.

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The lighting booth is fairly self-explanatory. We go here during shows to run the lighting board, spotlights, and soundboard. The cool thing about this place is that we get to wear majorly groovy headsets, but like the box office, the work is pretty monotonous.

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That's a techie's eye-view of the theater from soup to nuts. I hope you've enjoyed your visit enough to come again someday. If you would be so kind as to drop by some of these other locations, I would be most grateful. Thank you and have a pleasant evening.

That would be my site, Squeeky MacWench's Richfic Guide

This here is a link to the center of it all, Concubine University itself