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I have been working as a performer at Florida Medieval Faires since I was about thirteen. In those years I've encountered some rather outrageous stories and people, but I've not yet had a place to express the mind-bending idiocy. Thanks to the Customers Suck! Forum, I can finally share the pain.
The first story takes place at Bay Area Renaissance Festival 2005 or 2006 while I was doing some volunteer work as a squire for the jousting troupe. Everything was going rather according to drill and I was out at the list field with another squire setting up all the equipment needed for the upcoming performance. I turned around to check on the lances only to find a drunken patron with the lance between his legs. To this day I'm not sure if he was being intimate with it or pretending that it was his genitals, but nothetheless it really wasn't something I'd wanted to see. I approached the man and informed him that he would have to leave the field and put the lance back in its holder. He simply stared at me. I inquired how much alcohol he had consumed that day. He laughed and informed me, "Enough". I think a little piece of my soul died when I had to touch the lance.
The second story has been ongoing for several years at the Hoggetowne Medieval Faire. I work as a character and as a fighter on the Living Chessboard put on by the Thieves Guilde annually. Sometimes my job is to work with the patrons to teach them the cheers, chants, and jeers that are traditional for the Chess Games. One year while doing so, I discovered a small boy in front with a wooden sword yelling obscenities at me. I tried to ignore him, but apparently his lung power was too mighty for him to simply give up. He began to resort to telling me (quite loudly) that nobody loved me and that I should go kill myself. Since killing patrons is against the rules, I restrained myself and continued with the show...until the darling threw the aforementioned wooden sword with rather astounding accuracy. I'm pretty sure I was lucky to escape the encounter without a mark.
The third story is far more simple. Before I joined with the Thieves Guilde Living Chess Troupe I worked as a narrator for "Ye Olde Goat and Pony Show", a little short piece of pseudo-medieval theatre with trained goats, llamas, dogs, pigs, et cetera. Every morning when faire opened, the other actors and I would walk the llamas up front to greet the patrons. You know, I never realized just how many people don't realize that a "llama" and an "emu" are two totally different things.
The first story takes place at Bay Area Renaissance Festival 2005 or 2006 while I was doing some volunteer work as a squire for the jousting troupe. Everything was going rather according to drill and I was out at the list field with another squire setting up all the equipment needed for the upcoming performance. I turned around to check on the lances only to find a drunken patron with the lance between his legs. To this day I'm not sure if he was being intimate with it or pretending that it was his genitals, but nothetheless it really wasn't something I'd wanted to see. I approached the man and informed him that he would have to leave the field and put the lance back in its holder. He simply stared at me. I inquired how much alcohol he had consumed that day. He laughed and informed me, "Enough". I think a little piece of my soul died when I had to touch the lance.
The second story has been ongoing for several years at the Hoggetowne Medieval Faire. I work as a character and as a fighter on the Living Chessboard put on by the Thieves Guilde annually. Sometimes my job is to work with the patrons to teach them the cheers, chants, and jeers that are traditional for the Chess Games. One year while doing so, I discovered a small boy in front with a wooden sword yelling obscenities at me. I tried to ignore him, but apparently his lung power was too mighty for him to simply give up. He began to resort to telling me (quite loudly) that nobody loved me and that I should go kill myself. Since killing patrons is against the rules, I restrained myself and continued with the show...until the darling threw the aforementioned wooden sword with rather astounding accuracy. I'm pretty sure I was lucky to escape the encounter without a mark.
The third story is far more simple. Before I joined with the Thieves Guilde Living Chess Troupe I worked as a narrator for "Ye Olde Goat and Pony Show", a little short piece of pseudo-medieval theatre with trained goats, llamas, dogs, pigs, et cetera. Every morning when faire opened, the other actors and I would walk the llamas up front to greet the patrons. You know, I never realized just how many people don't realize that a "llama" and an "emu" are two totally different things.
I AM the evil bastard!
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