We have no rides, and the straggling queue that is starting to form at the entrance has to be patient. Whenh it looks solid, when the Boss has decided there is a "house" in it (enough bodies to make it worth while to perform) he opens the ticket box and starts selling tickets.
One of my jobs is to take the tickets at the door. Everyone works two or three jobs on a Dog and Pony Show, as well as putting up and pulling down the tent and performing in the ring.
I have my ring make-up on and my costume on under my blouse and skirt because I practically open the show.
Pamela has cranked up the "Panatrope", the incredibly old collection of bits and pieces that makes up the record player and speaker system. Being a small show, we can't afford a band. The Panatrope (I think it got this name from a commercial brand of record player) is always breaking down.
That and the circus lighting runs off the diesel generator on one of the trucks, and that is always breaking down too. It's not unusual to suddenly run out of music and lights in the middle of a performance, or for the clown who doubles as a mechanic to come into the ring smelling of diesel and covered in engine oil.
There have been a few experiments in providing music for the performances. One circus employed a drummer who solidly thumped his way through every act, another hired a rock band.
Unfortunately, the rock band proved more popular than the acts and performers were booed for interrupting.
This is not going to be a full house. We have already run past start time and the people are still arriving in straggling bunches. The Boss's love of a full house could mean we won't start the show until midnight, so everyone starts complaining at him and he reluctantly puts up the Full House sign on the ticket box.
As the crowd is so small, and most have only paid for the cheapest seats, we let them move around and seat themselves where they please while the opening music plays. It makes the crowd look bigger.
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