UPDATE: At the suggestion of Dianna's South co-manager, Kate McKnight, I attended another show at the venue last night, and found it to be quite comfortable. The A/C was working nicely, and it helped that the show wasn't sold out (sorry, Cupid), so I could relax a little in my seat.

While I agree with Roguemaster Marcel Nunis, who says on his blog that "As a potential audience member I can let things slide during a tech rehearsal... not a performance I paid to see. From a festival standpoint this reflects poorly with performers and audiences alike," I definitely do not hold a grudge. Luckily, I was able to go back and see for myself that things were made right.

Dianna's South = back in my good graces, and a venue at which I will happily see more Rogue performances.

Oh, and one more thing. One of the kind people taking the money at last night's show shushed me as I was talking loudly and acting a fool outside the venue, just prior to the show starting. To him I say: Good for you, friend! Clearly I need some Rogue schooling myself, and it's nice to see someone on point in that respect.

Original Entry from 3/1: There's complaining for the sake of complaining, and then there's complaining with a specific goal in mind: to bring about change and make things better. I hope this post falls under the latter category.

I attended two Rogue shows at Dianna's South yesterday -- "Cupid is a B*itch" at 5:30 p.m. and "The Honeymoon Period is Officially Over" at 8:30 p.m. -- and I have to say that at this point, Dianna's has become my least favorite venue, and quite possibly a factor in how I choose the shows I'll attend from now on.

It's a small space, so I understand that certain comforts have to be foregone in order to fit everyone in. But when you're sitting thigh to thigh with people, unable to stretch or move for fear of inappropriately touching the person next to you (sorry, Donald Munro. I swear that was my jacket, not me), it becomes harder to lose yourself in what's happening onstage.

And the heat. My god, the heat. By the time Gemma Wilcox finished her hour-long Sybil routine, Dianna's was stifling -- not what people wearing sweaters and jackets expect to experience at 9:30 at night in February. People were fanning themselves with programs, the collective body heat from the audience so sweltering that poor Wilcox managed to sweat right through her button-down shirt. Her interpretation of fire at the end of the show? Spot on.

Sadly, I stopped paying attention to the performance a half-hour in, and instead stared at the clock, willing time to move faster, so I could finally stand up, work out the kink in my sore neck, breath some fresh air, and try to forget the sensation of rubbing up against the stranger sitting on my left.

I attended one final show last night -- "Barry Smith's Baby Book" at Starline. Not to be too dramatic, but it was like ascending to heaven from hell. Cool air, plenty of space, easy access to a restroom, and even a nice big cup of ice water to sip on throughout the performance. Which was hilarious, poignant and amazing, by the way. How do I know this? I was able to concentrate on the show, and not on my own comfort.

I know Rogue organizers are grateful to each and every venue, and they are lucky to have places like Dianna's South offer their space. But with the addition of newer venues, perhaps in the future Rogue will have the freedom to be more selective.