Stage manager mutters something to director.Oops.
Director: Oh, yes. And you'll be striking the set every night after each show.
Me: (a little too loudly) WHAT.
Here's the deal: I got spoiled at Chicago Shakes. I mean, people were paid to wash my underwear, for crying out loud. They bought us underwear.
(That's standard in Equity houses. If you are confused as to why, I'll explain it in the comments but it has to do with often-revealing, semitransparent costumes and two-show days when you get REAL sweaty, if you know what I mean.)
So this is a little different.
In some ways, I suppose you could say I've taken a massive step backward.