Fringe: Sit here, move up - the commands of the lanyard brigade

Allow me to introduce you to a phenomenon called lanyarditis.

It strikes every August in the heart of Edinburgh when the Festival Fringe swings into action.

They are worn by students working the queues and checking tickets, as well as every performer, critic and hinger-on. Some even have more than one lanyard, and a few wear so many they adopt a permanent stoop, and the badges usually end up in their bowls of soup.

Lanyarditis strikes in many ways.

Take queuing.

We Brits excel at standing and waiting in line. 

With space at a premium, queues need to be managed, but factor in lanyarditis, and, suddenly, the rebel in you starts to surface.

“Can you all squish up/snuggle up?” asked one student lanyard wearer. Grief, this is Edinburgh we don't squish up to the people we love, let alone strangers in  plastic rain macs with “I love Bonnie Scotland” on the front.

Meanwhile, her colleague asked everyone to take “one B-I-G step forward?”

No! I’m not a five year old for heaven’s sake.

But, stick a lanyard round someone’s neck and they suddenly become jollier-than-jolly nursery teachers shepherding lost wee souls rather than front of house staff dealing with people who have spent a fortune, know the rules of the Fringe, and don’t need to be constantly squished up.

And, if you do want a queue to take up less space, it really  makes sense to start from the front rather than the back. Maybe something all the major venues might want to add to their pre-Fringe brief to the lanyard brigade next year. Worst offender? Take a bow The Pleasance!

Then there’s the palaver over tickets. Ripped, checked and checked again - a triple lock to  ensure no-one gets into that half-empty room to see a stand-up perform in front of 12 people.

I’ve accessed major stadium gigs and festivals with less faffing around and, surely, in 2019 we should championing online/app bookings and e-tickets.   

We collected enough ticket stubs to fill several single use plastic cups!

My favourite remains the poor lanyander who asked if they could pre-rip our tickets.

I said no. They looked flummoxed.

Rip or no rip - take your choice - but pre-rip?  Not a thing, in my book.

But what rips my knitting at the Fringe is being told where to sit.

The Assembly roped off sections, forcing you into rows of seats with less leg space than a Ryanair

flight.

Or, they simply deposited a lanyard in the aisle for them to point vaguely at a seat on their left.

I understand  venues need to fill up promptly - I want the show to start on time as much as the person sitting next to me who also has another one to see straight after - but I’m absolutely convinced all this directing people saves not a second of time.

All the major venues - the Pleasance, Underbelly, George Square Gardens and the Assembly (Mound and Rooms) - need to invest in mature front of house staff who marshal, and manage, the boundless enthusiasm of the lanyard brigades. If they want an example go ask the BBC who had the best, most engaging and genuinely nice folk to manage their queues. Funnily enough none of them were studying for a degree in PE...

Fringe goers know how the system works, and, by and large, they'll all do their bit to get seated on time and with the minimum of fuss - grief, they've all paid enough for them!

Treat them like adults, not children, engage properly with them, and no-one need ever squish up again.