So, I'm visiting a family member, somewhere off of Northern Lights Boulevard.

I'm waiting for them in some lobby. People are bustling. Turns out: it's the green room for the Blue Man Group. A man in blueface is smoking, reading a magazine in between acts.

Someone sees that I'm out of place, and walks up to me.

"You a fan of the show?" she asks. She isn't dressed like I performer. I assume she is a stage manager, or an assistant.

"I'm just waiting for my cousin." I realize too late that I have marshmallow in my stubble, and start trying to pick it out.

"Oh. Well, you should wait for number 253," she says. I have no idea what she's talking about, and I guess my face shows that fact. "You haven't seen it before? I'll show you."

She proceeds to walk me out of the building into the parking lot. Cars are going by, but in the wrong direction for Northern Lights. I try to make a comment, but she's already doing flips.

Another performer walks up to me and gives me a hug, then sets me down on the bench while the stage manager is doing backflips. "She likes you. You treat her right, you hear me?" the performer says.