In the nineties,for a while, I used to take in " theatrical types" as a way of supplementing my nursing income. At that time Sheffield had a buoyant theatrical scene, ( I think it still does) and so there was always a number of eclectic odd bods that wanted a bed for the night for a week or two.
The life of a jobbing actor who has secured a, " supporting role" in a production is not quite as glamorous or as lucrative as one may think, and so I learnt very quickly that the likes of Kenneth Branagh or James McAvoy were not going to queue up at my mid Victorian terraced house in Hillsborough.
So who did turn up?
Well I had a very elderly pantomime dame who demanded a big wardrobe for all of his frocks
A tiny 75 years old Indian actor with a prostate problem
A very mature flame haired actress with an eating disorder who said she was only 32( yeah right !)
And an Opera singing Londoner who ended up stealing all of my toilet paper and two cans of mandarin oranges.
Yes... All very glamorous