The tour of Curlew Creek Winery ended in the tasting room. Samantha refilled their cups, and they all sat down again at the same table. “Brett, I’m glad you could make it over here today,” she said. “You’ve already been a big help. At least now we know that having a dinner theater is a possibility.”

“I never said it wasn’t,” he smiled, taking a small sip of his coffee. That was enough; it was still pretty hot. “Technically it’s feasible, but we knew that to begin with. What’s more, if you want to do it on a small-scale one-shot arrangement, like I mentioned with the group that’s doing Arsenic and Old Lace, it’s probably even financially feasible. At least, if it’s a bust you won’t lose your shirts.”

“I think that’s pretty clear, now,” Marty replied. “But just for fun, let’s explore doing it in a big way. I mean, something every weekend, maybe two or three showings a weekend.”

“Yes,” Samantha added. “A single weekend sounds like fun, but I had visions of so much more, making this place a real destination.”

“That’s a great deal more difficult,” Brett said. “Again, we have to talk about alternatives. We talked earlier about how you can wear your audience out with the same show. Oh, let’s say you have a couple who comes to the show and likes it, so maybe a week or two later they show up with some friends. Unless the show is really something, that’s probably the last time you see them until the next show you put on.”

“Their friends might bring friends,” she submitted.

“They might, and they might not. Say you have one couple in ten who does something like that. It doesn’t take very long for that to run its course. Now, bear in mind, I’m talking about your regulars. Marty, you said you have a lot of tourist traffic in the area. I’m guessing they’re in and out, maybe here for a weekend or a week, but not much longer. Am I right on that?”

“We see a fair bit of that trade, but we’ve had to work to get it,” he said. “We have two tourist areas within about ten miles. They both have nice beaches, and my gut feeling from the customers we’ve seen go through here is that there’s a lot of turnover. One of them is Coopersport, and you probably know about that.”

“I’ve heard a little bit about it,” Brett nodded. In recent years it had gotten a little fame for being a very gay-friendly town, especially around the beach. It wasn’t exactly Provincetown or Fire Island or even Saugatuck, but working in that direction. “I’ve never been there, though. Let’s face it, the theater business has a reputation for having a lot of gays involved, and I’ve heard them talking about it. But as a straight I haven’t really been interested in knowing more than that.”

“It’s actually a pretty nice little town, especially if you’re into that sort of thing, I suppose,” Samantha said. “Rather artsy and refined, in a way. I’m surprised they don’t have some sort of a theater group there already.”

“It has tons of cute little shops selling all sorts of artsy-fartsy knickknacks,” Marty snorted. “If we could open a tasting room there I’m sure we’d get a pot load of traffic, but the state gets involved. They say we can’t open a tasting room there without having a full liquor license, and for practical purposes those are unobtainable. There’s a limit on the number of those allowed in each community, so when one becomes available because the owner is selling out, well, it would cost more money than we have to get it. And then, if we did, we’d have to be running a gay bar to get our money back. Even if I wanted to go through all the hassles, which I don’t, it would still be a pretty chancy thing.”

“So you don’t sell anything there at all?”

“What we sell there has to go through a wholesaler,” he explained. “The state is involved again. Of course, they take a damn big cut, so we really don’t make much. We’re in several retail stores there, and I’ve made sure they have a nice display that advertises we’re out here. That’s drawn some business out here. But it’s nowhere near as effective as having a tasting room there in the town.”

“I can’t help but think that having the theater available, even if it’s a few miles out of town, would give people from Coopersport a good reason to come out here,” Samantha added. “It would give them something else to do.”

“The problem with that is still that we’re a long way out here,” Marty said. “And since you drove in the way most people have to come, you can see how bad that road is.”

“That curve at the top of the hill surprised me.”

“It surprises a lot of people. Our back yard is at the bottom of the hill and every now and then we get a visitor from above. I’ve been bugging the county about putting a guard rail there ever since we bought the place, but no progress. They don’t even want to put one up if I paid for it, God knows why.”

“I have to say your signage is pretty good,” Brett commented. “I didn’t have any trouble finding you at all.”

“It was one of the first things we did when we took over the place,” Marty explained. “From what I can tell it made a big difference. I’m sure it brought us much more business from both Coopersport and Oxford. That’s the other tourist town.”

“What’s the deal with that one?”

“It’s a little different. They have a nice beach there, too, but they also have a medium sized amusement park. It’s no Six Flags or Cedar Point or anything, but it makes for a reasonably popular weekend destination for families. I don’t think we draw anything like as much tourist traffic from there, mostly because they’re more family oriented, but we do get some.”

Brett shook his head. He could see right then that figuring out what to perform was going to be interesting! It had to be both gay-friendly and family-friendly, and those were not exactly mutually compatible, to say the least. “But you think there might be a market there, too?” he replied.

“Some, for sure. How much, well, that’s a darn good question.”

“I think it safe to say that the people coming from Coopersport in general appreciate the arts more than the ones from Oxford,” Samantha said. “But those are not our only sources of customers. We have people coming from all over the region, regulars, as you call them. Sometimes they’re people who are just looking for an interesting place to go for a nice Sunday drive. Sometimes it makes Sunday afternoons rather interesting.”

“Nothing on Sunday mornings, of course,” Marty snorted. “Damn state liquor laws on Sunday, we can’t open until noon. That makes Sundays our day to sleep in.”

“I can’t help but think that a show on Sunday afternoon might draw in even more people,” Samantha observed. “It would give those people another reason to come here.”

“Maybe,” Brett replied, turning the question over in his mind. There was no doubt that the Ammermans had a pretty good idea of who their wine customers were, but how would that translate into people coming for a play? “I can’t think of any way of finding out other than to give it a try and see what happens.”

“That’s our opinion, too,” Marty agreed. “It strikes me that your idea of bringing in an existing show might be a good way to stick our toes in the water. Maybe we could do it three or four times over the summer, and advertise it well. That could tell us quite a lot.”

“It’s a possibility,” Samantha put in. “But I fear it would be difficult to see how that could translate into what kind of response we would get to several shows a weekend all summer long.”

“It would tell you something,” Brett nodded. “At least it would firm up your guesswork.”

“Just for the sake of discussion,” Marty said, “what would you suggest if we were to decide to do it as Samantha just said? Several shows a weekend, all summer long.”

“If you feel like you just want to jump into it without sticking your toes in the water first, I’d prescribe drinking a bottle of your cheapest wine and then going to lie down until the feeling goes away,” Brett replied flatly. “There are so many unknowns it’s unbelievable, and a lot of them can bite you quite firmly in the butt. Let me just say it would be iffy and expensive, at best.”

“Isn’t it just scaling up what we’ve been talking about?” Samantha asked, obviously a little disappointed at what Brett told her.

“It is, and it isn’t,” Brett sighed. They were looking for trouble if they went that route, and he felt he needed to make that point perfectly clear. “Look, let’s take it a piece at a time. We talked a little earlier about doing one production all summer long, or changing productions each week, but just to go over it again, it depends on your audience. You can get away with one show all the time if your audience changes regularly. Hell, The Mousetrap has been running continuously in London since back in the fifties sometime, mostly because London gets a lot of visitors and they’re always changing. That’s a special situation since it’s a tourist draw all its own.”

“We saw it there years ago,” Samantha smiled. “It was pretty good.”

“It ought to be, as much practice as they’ve had,” Brett smiled. “But that’s one end of the spectrum. The other end is what we talked about earlier, which is to say, mostly drawing on your regulars. There you’ve got to change shows every two or three weeks. I think a month might be too long, and maybe even two weeks would, I don’t know. Let’s talk about doing it that way since it’s more complicated, just so you can see what you’re up against.”

“Fine,” Marty agreed. “Let’s try the worst-case scenario and see what we’re looking at.”

“It’s not easy. First, you’re not going to be able to bring in an outside group every weekend. You’ll have to have your own staff that does nothing but prepare and perform plays. Just for the sake of talking, let’s say sixteen weeks, changing shows every two weeks. That means you have one show in production and another one in rehearsal at the same time. That would be complicated enough for amateurs, so you’re going to need pros, two or three and maybe more.”

“What would that cost?”

“I’ll be getting five hundred a week for thirteen weeks from the company I’m contracted with for the summer,” Brett explained. “At that, I’m working a little on the cheap side, but since I know I’ll be there all summer long, I’m willing to do it. I don’t know how many they’ll have on staff, maybe six or eight. As far as I know there are four different productions planned, three weeks for three of them and one week for four. I’ll be doing lead roles in at least a couple of them, supporting roles in the rest. So, in rough figures, that’s forty or fifty grand right there, just for talent.”

“I can see how that adds up,” Marty nodded.

“Again, I don’t know the details, but they may need some short-time staff for one production or another. They may not get paid as much, or for as long, but I can see that coming to another ten grand. It’s something like forty performances, and let’s say that royalties cost a hundred bucks for each performance. I’m probably off on that, but it gives us a number to use. Then there are any number of other expenses, electricity, printing, advertising, administrative support, and for them, even a mortgage on the building. It wouldn’t surprise me if it took them a hundred grand to get through the summer, and that’s cutting a few corners.”

“Wow,” Samantha shook her head. “That adds up more quickly than I thought it would. That would be a lot of money.”

“Yes it is, and they couldn’t do it just on ticket sales alone. At ten bucks a ticket, that’s ten thousand tickets to break even, and it’s just about impossible to do it on the size of the theater they have. They would literally have to sell out every show and still not break even.”

“So how can they get along?”

“Donors. They have one big angel who keeps them alive, a few smaller ones, and some patrons that kick in fifty or a hundred bucks or so.”

“That’s more money than I dreamed,” Marty admitted. “In fact, it’s a lot more. There’s no way in hell we could do it.”

“True,” Brett agreed. “The money would mount up in a hurry, which is why there aren’t a lot of local theater companies. But things are a little different for you, and there are several corners you can cut they can’t, plus a separate revenue stream.”

“What kind of corners would we have to cut?” Samantha asked.

“I’m curious about that, too,” Marty agreed.

“Well, let’s take a look at it,” Brett said, grabbing a napkin with the Curlew Creek logo on it, and turning it over to the blank side, then pulling out a ball point pen. “Let’s look at expenses first, and for the sake of simplifying it, let’s talk about three shows a week, Friday night, Saturday night and Sunday afternoon, for that sixteen weeks. First off, you wouldn’t have any mortgage expense. I presume you have a mortgage on this place …”

“We do.”

“Right, but it’s something you’re already paying, so that’s a wash. We’d probably be talking smaller shows, so we can get by with fewer full-time paid professionals. Say, two, with an occasional third, and filling the bigger productions out with amateurs who get paid a stipend if anything at all. Let’s say twenty-four grand total. If the right shows are selected, say two grand for royalties. Advertising, let’s arbitrarily say ten grand, and you might be able to do it for less considering that you have your own printing press. Peanuts for various miscellaneous expenses.”

“That’s close to forty grand,” Marty said. “Not quite there, but close.” He’d obviously been keeping track of the numbers in his head.

“All right, to that you have to add the cost of the meals. I have no idea what that would be, but let’s just arbitrarily say it works out to five bucks a head, and I might be a bit low at that. A hundred and twenty people would be six hundred bucks per performance, or eighteen hundred per week. Fifty performances, for round figures, that’s thirty grand.”

“So, in round figures,” Marty nodded, “seventy grand for the season.”

“That’s a guess, but a fairly educated one,” Brett nodded. “That means you have to take in fifteen hundred bucks an evening to break even.” He stopped to do a little long division on the napkin, and went on, “If, and that’s a big if, you sold every seat every night, that means it would take a ticket price of twelve and a half bucks to break even. And you get the wine sales on top of that.”

“Hmmm,” Marty said, grabbing a napkin and doing a few figures of his own. “That’s a little better than I’d thought.”

“It looks like we might be able to do it,” Samantha said. “That’s wonderful!”

“Remember, I said you had a huge if,” Brett continued. “Especially at the beginning your chance of filling all your seats are dead nil. In fact, I’d suggest taking some tables out of the room and spreading things out a little so the place won’t look so empty when you first get going. The food numbers go down a little, but everything else stays the same. In fact, I’d really doubt you’re going to sell out the house more than a handful of times.”

“That’s not quite so good,” she frowned.

“No, it isn’t. Let’s be a little pessimistic and say that you average only fifty tickets per show.” He did some more scribbling on the napkin, to the point where it was starting to tear, so he grabbed another one and went on. “That cuts your food costs to two-fifty a performance, probably a little more since you’d want to have a little extra on hand in case someone shows up at the last minute. Let’s say three hundred. That works out to fifteen grand or thereabouts for the season and you’re still a little under forty grand for staff and other expenses. Let’s say fifty grand total. Fifty tickets per show, fifty shows, that’s a total of twenty-five hundred tickets, so about twenty bucks a ticket to break even. If you can project larger audiences, the break-even price on tickets goes down, but not real fast.”

“That’s not as good, but it still sounds like it could be done,” Samantha smiled. “And there would be the income from the wine sales to take up the slack if needed.”

“Well, this is a guesstimate,” Brett conceded. “I could easily be off in a number of places. Food costs could easily be higher since I folded food staff into the figure, and I could easily be low. I just don’t know. You would really need to do some serious research on that, since, like I said, that’s not my field of expertise. Production costs, especially, have been cut a little tight, but I know more about that so I can make better guesses. I’m assuming only two full-time paid professionals for the talent, and a third would be nice if not downright necessary. And really, since you’d be asking them to do several shows, they probably should be paid a little more.”

“On top of that, we’d also have to work in the building modifications,” Marty said thoughtfully as he scribbled some figures on his own napkin.

“Yes, but that’s a one-time expense that could be spread over a few years. Just to look at those numbers it looks fairly promising. Even with relatively low ticket sales you could have a nice intimate performance that people would enjoy, so that’s to the good. But I have to tell you that it’s a huge hunk to bite off all at once, with no experience in the field. You probably would be much better off to do like I told you in the beginning, bring in a few amateur or semi-professional outfits for maybe three or four shows for the summer, just so you get a feeling of what you would be letting yourself in for.”

“The problem with that,” Samantha frowned, “is that you’re dealing with amateurs. It might get the whole program off to a bad start. I mean, would you want to drink amateur-made wine?”

“Not really,” Brett nodded. “But yes, you have a point. You’re going to get a better job out of professionals, and I can’t deny it.”

“Let me ask you this,” Marty said. “If we were to decide on going ahead with this on a full-season basis, would you be interested in managing it, and possibly acting in some roles?”

“I admit, it’s interesting to me,” Brett admitted. “It would get me into some areas I haven’t had to handle directly, but I don’t think there’s anything there I couldn’t handle. But if we’re talking this summer it’s a moot point. I already have a contract for this summer, and that’s that. Besides, it’s April. That’s getting pretty damn late to get started on a production that would probably have to begin on Memorial Day weekend. I would really have to hit the ground running. I’m not saying it can’t be done, but that there’s no way I could do it this summer.”

“Well,” Marty said, “you’ve certainly given us a great deal to think about. Right at the moment my gut reaction is to do like you said, get an outside group to bring in a production three or four times this summer. That would give us a little better feel for the whole idea.”

“Marty,” Samantha said, “we really need to talk about this.”

“We do,” he agreed. “But we need to be a little realistic about it, too. Brett, if we decide to go the simple route, would you be available to help get us in contact with the people we need to talk to?”

“Sure,” he replied. “I’m busy most days but I get free periods once in a while. It’s not so far over here that I couldn’t run over and help out as necessary, at least for the next month or so. After that, I’ll be involved with the company I have a contract with, so I’d only be available for the first part of the week, and then only if necessary since I’ll be busy with rehearsals.”

“Keep in touch,” Marty said. “There’s always such a thing as next year.”

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