Author's Note: Yet another assignment from creative writing class. But this is really good! And funny, too! ^_^ It's not exactly true, though I did work at this theater for a couple of years. And the character being focused on is an origional character who I made for a couple of my stories on . He's great, if a bit annoying. The narrator's not quite me, but he/she is fairly close. The Muny is a real theater, and Deb the usher captain is a real person. Other than that, this is purely fiction. Enjoy!

Ushing

“Hi!” I said brightly, handing three programs to a middle-aged man and woman and a little boy wearing green. “Do you need help finding your seat?”

“No, I think we’ll manage,” the patron said with a smile.

“Okay, enjoy the show!” I was enjoying the cool breeze on the July evening. The orange sun was setting behind the distant trees and it was slowly turning cooler. Hopefully I wouldn’t get too sunburned. All in all, it was a pleasant night aside from the hoards of children invading the theater. The other side of the aisle I was standing at was a different story, however.

“Here,” was all my fellow usher would say as he grudgingly gave out programs to those who insisted on having one.

“Your seat’s down there,” the usher with wild black hair told an older lady, glancing at her ticket and vaguely pointing somewhere at the section of seats in front of us.

“Oh, down… there?” The patron gave him a vague look. A small girl tugged on her arm and stared up at us.

“Here, I can take you to it,” I said quickly. I took her ticket and carefully led her to her seat in the lowest section of the theater. She smiled and thanked me, but unfortunately she wasn’t grateful enough to tip me. I handed her a program and went back up to my aisle. Senui was still leaning on his rail, holding a stack of programs and looking down at the stage. Although his hair was always an overwhelming mass of black spikes, his purple usher shirt and khaki pants were impeccably neat.

“I knew she wasn’t going to tip you. See why you shouldn’t take people to their seats? It just wastes time,” he said, sounding vaguely derisive.

“She needed help, though! And that’s what we’re supposed to do. What if she went and complained to Deb?” The big usher captain loomed over the whole right side of the theater, her blue vest sticking out against the purple shirts of the ushers and the multicolored patrons.

“Did you see how old she was? I’ll bet she wouldn’t remember what she was doing by the time she got to Center Aisle. Besides, she’s probably too blind to read my name.” He grinned. His nametag read “Edward” tonight. After his first night when he had nearly been fired twice, he learned to take off his own nametag and swipe an extra from the usher captain’s office to wear. That way when patrons went to complain about him, they ended up accusing someone entirely different. Besides, no one could pronounce his Egyptian name without asking for help.

“I think Deb‘s starting to catch on,” I said, rising my eyebrows. He just scowled at me. A big group of children followed by two exhausted adults filtered in so I put on my big friendly smile and gave each of them a program. Senui stood on the other side of the aisle with his darkly tanned arms crossed over his stack of programs, holding them close like treasure. His smoky blue eyes sized up each person who passed and obviously found each one lacking in some way.

Behind us a camera flashed. Senui whipped around and stalked up the steps to a woman quickly putting a camera in her purse.

“Have you visited the Muny before, ma’am?” he asked condescendingly.

“Oh yes, we get season tickets every year! My son’s in the show tonight, maybe you’ve seen him. He’s one of the Lost Boys, and he has the cutest outfit!” the proud mother gushed.

Senui was unimpressed. “No. But you should be familiar with our camera policy by now. We don’t allow photography.”

“Well, I just thought I’d get a picture of the beautiful set to show Sam later! The show hasn’t started yet,” the woman said defensively. If I hadn’t been so busy with other patrons, I would have gone up and tried to smooth over her hurt feelings. Senui wouldn’t get in trouble anyway, and patrons are just stupid about things like cameras sometimes. But we have an image of friendliness to uphold, so a patron who gets angry should be calmed down. Some of us take up these social obligations. Others have no such interest.

“Look, the set’s copyrighted. If you take another picture, I’ll have to take your camera.” Senui and the patron glared at each other for a second before he turned without another word and went back to his box of programs.

"I hate patrons," he muttered, grabbing a few more programs from his box.

Behind us a scuffle broke out. A boy dressed as Peter Pan and a little girl in a Wendy dress both held half of a big soft pretzel, and were quickly being separated by their father. The girl turned quickly and her pretzel knocked into an older boy in front of her. The blond boy let out a shriek of protest as his plastic dagger dropped and clattered down under the seats, coming out on the landing next to us. I reached for it, but Senui was faster. He held it up and looked at the boy.

"Oh, now you'll never get it back," the exasperated mother with the camera commented from a few rows back. Senui glared at her and made as if to throw the dagger at her, but didn't let go of it. Then he looked back at the boy and tossed it to him. The boy just barely caught it, but he had to stretch his arm all the way back into the next row to do so, making the girl who had bumped him throw her cup of soda backwards. The whining camera-lady was now covered in grape soda. She sat there sputtering for a minute.

I quickly ran up to the sticky, wet patron. "Are you all right, Ma'am? Would you like me to get you some wet paper towels?"

I got a murderous stare for my concern. "No, don't bother. I'll do it myself" The indignant mother got up, glaring at Senui as she passed him, and stalked to the bathroom. We're required to carry a rag with us to wipe off seats, so I took mine out and wiped the seat dry, though it was still sticky. Stuffing it back in my poket, I meandered back to my spot.

"Aren't you going to get those wet paper towels?" Senui asked in a very fake innocent voice, grinning evilly at me.

"No, she wanted to do it herself," I said, smiling and asking an elderly couple to enjoy the show before turning back to him. "If you had done that on purpose, I'd have to kill you."

"Who says I didn't? That'll teach her to take pictures here. I hope some of it got in her purse," Senui said with a snort.

A loud voice interrupted everything and the theater quieted before it. As the stage manager's voice poured through the loudspeakers, welcoming people to "Peter Pan," I silently smiled and handed out programs to latecomers, letting them find their own seats. Senui stood on the other side of the aisle rolling his eyes and bobbing his head back and forth, silently begging the announcer to get on with it. Towards the end of the recording, the camera lady returned looking slightly less sticky. I smiled and automatically stuck out a program, which she narrowed her eyes at. Senui caught sight of her and smiled smugly as the announcer stated, "We would like to remind you that the taking of photographs and use of any other recording device is strictly prohibited by the Actors' Equity Association. And now ladies and gentlemen, please rise for our national anthem."

Endnote: What did you think? Senui's a horribly annoying person, isn't he? But he makes you want to see more of him, at least! ^_^ Review, please!