If last Saturday was any sign of how this evening would go, we knew we were in for a rough evening. And boy, what a crazy evening.
We were in our scene and scaring the first wagon at 6:20PM. Typically, we would not even be in our scene then, for it would still be light out. We were scaring people when the sun was just still faintly awake. And that was odd. Being able to see people's faces. And them seeing mine. It made for a very awkward first few scares. But sooner than later it got dark again and we were back to the whole creepy, dark backwoods. Ah, how comforting!
Half way through the night, a manager came by and told us that they were going to start sending wagons through every 90 seconds. He told us to take it easy and save our breath. I believe Colin and I were too tired to even bitch or complain. We just had to accept the fact and that was that.
The woods were certainly cursed tonight. A customer was hurt pretty bad. A tractor malfunctioned in a scene making for a steady train of 4 or 5 wagons. A few customers jumped off the wagon and into the woods. Maybe that last one was another night. Anyways, the night was just not the best for hayride folk. Especially for few actors in particular. Because this all happened in one scene. The medieval scene! I guess that's what sorcery and the plague will give you.
It felt like we were machines. Or as our one coworker, Emily, described it, like ghosts. She said it would suck to be a ghost because that's basically what we are. And I had never thought about it like that before, but we very much are like residual spirits. Destined to haunt a particular location when visitors come and bother our shtuff. So yes, it would suck to be a ghost.
At around 11 o'clock in the evening or so is right about when I lost it. "It" entailing everything I possessed. My physical possessions such as my voice, my legs, my back, my hands, just my entire body was yelling at me for some relief. My mental sanity certainly drove off. I would stand upon my spool, swaying from left to right, muttering something, not even sure what I was muttering, no hint of a smile on my face, eyes crazy with the intent of "up-to-no-good". My acting became reality. I became the insane hick, living in the sawmill. I could not do my hillbilly yelp, so my voice would just be yelling. HOLLERING. Like a damned fool! I had a lot of people look back at me because my speech mannerisms were not exactly right. Not that I was not saying the right lines. The way I was saying them became very odd. Loud as possible. I'm not sure if it was scary, but maybe more an unnerving factor. The only thing that kept me through the night was a comment my buddy Colin made about our work in June (overnight flooring work in department stores). He said, "Well, at least we won't be here when the sun comes up." That's about the only thing that kept me from getting a little too nuts with any customers in the hopes that I could leave.
This was the busiest night the Bates Motel & Haunted Hayride has ever had, at least for the hayride attraction. It's nice to be a part of that history, but it wears on our already weak human structure. And it will take all week to recover.
(End of 16th evening).
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