This is the FIrst in a series of interviews with pivotal characters in the arts community who are recognizable members of "the scene" despite the fact that they may not play drums, write novels, or shoot films. Every creative urban landscape has people who influence and foster their community's growth in subtle ways--from loyal fans who obsessively record live performances to scenesters who throw underground parties and introduce previously unacquainted artists. That kooky girl you see every week at the Re-bar may not be a DJ or an actress, but she might play a bigger role in this town than you would guess--and it's these roles that deserve a little more illumination on these pages.

It's common knowledge that finding success as a musician is incredibly difficult, but what's less clear is how challenging it is to find sustainable work as a booking agent or promoter in the business. I'll make it clear: It's fiercely competitive, and paying your dues can be highly unglamorous. The Seattle music community has a scant handful of administrative and managerial positions, and they're almost always filled as soon as they are vacated. Twenty-two-year-old Brian McFadin has landed in one of the best entry-level spots in town, working as an administrative assistant and box-office manager for the Showbox. If you've bought advance tickets at this downtown club in the last six months, chances are McFadin was the sweet-tempered kid taking your money.

What were you doing before you came to the Showbox?

I was a marketing student at UW. My first music-industry job was in the booking department at EMP as an intern, which was a fantastic, wonderful experience, I must say. One of their staff members went on sabbatical for three months, so I filled in for her for the summer. Then a position opened up at the Showbox, so I moved over here.

What does your job entail other than selling tickets?

I book the Green Room and I'm an assistant for [booking agents] Scott [Giampino] and Chad [Queirolo], so I help with contracts and proofing ads, all that stuff. I'm basically an all-purpose office assistant.

Do you try to guess which show people are buying tickets for when they walk up to the box office?

Oh yeah, all the time. We're pretty good at that. Sometimes Scott and I will have informal contests just to see--like, "Yeah, I think they're buying Jayhawks tickets"; "No way, I think it's Les Nubians." Usually one of us is right; we have a pretty good prediction scale. Right now we're selling a lot of Mars Volta tickets, and those are easy--kids wearing At the Drive-In shirts, or some other emo band. And they're usually really quiet. I can spot those a mile away.

What were the Liz Phair people like?

The Liz Phair people were looking a lot less hip than they probably did three years ago. There were a lot of VH1 watchers. Mid-thirties professionals who thought Liz Phair was cool a while back.

What are the most aggravating components of your job? Now's your chance to bitch about all the stupid stuff the customers do.

When I say that tickets are cash only, they'll ask me if I'll accept a check, which seems really odd. Also, there's a rash of people who always come at 6:03, right after I close, who are really mad that I won't sell them tickets. And of course, people always give me the third degree about the $1.50 service charge.

How do you handle that?

I basically just tell them the truth: The $1.50 charge goes towards keeping the box office open. The box office is a convenience for people who don't have credit cards and can't order tickets directly from TicketsWest over the phone or the Internet. So that's why we only accept cash, and that's why we have the service charge. It pays me, it pays for the computer system, the ticket stock, all that sort of stuff.

Do you get asked a lot of weird questions about the bands?

People will buy tickets to a show that I know nothing about, like Afro Celt Sound System or some worldbeat band that I've never listened to in my life. And then they'll ask me if I'm going to the show or if I've ever seen them before. And it's invariably a show that I would never go to, but they'll talk to me for 20 minutes about this band that I know nothing about--and don't care to know anything about.

So what do you do? Do you feign interest?

Oh yeah, you have to humor people.

I'm completely fascinated with the way people judge each other for their musical taste. As reprehensible as it is, I know that if someone came in to buy tickets for some shitty hippie band...

Like Dark Star Orchestra...

Exactly. I would immediately start thinking mean thoughts about them...

Yeah, totally. I used to be a much harsher judge of character than I am now. But now I just think it's really funny how people get excited. They'll get a little glow in their eyes when I hand them their tickets. Even if it's a hippie band, I still get a kick out of it.

Aww--it's made you more humane!

A little bit. It depends on the show. I don't feel warm fuzzies for people buying tickets for horrible rap-rock shows, because I know they're going to be in here in a few weeks making everyone's life miserable. No warm fuzzies for them.

Any particularly strange interactions lately?

At least one or two times a day, someone will wander in thinking the Showbox is Dejà Vu and ask where the girls are. It's because Dejà Vu is less than a block away. I'm often tempted to send them back to [über-foxy general manager] Denise's office [he laughs], but I don't.

And having the words "show" and "box" on the marquee probably doesn't help...

Yeah, there was one week when this band called Peepshow was playing and they were listed on the marquee. That was a busy week in terms of people coming in expecting to see naked women.

How has your job affected the way you react to meeting famous musicians? Do you still get starstruck?

I was really starstruck, initially; I didn't think I'd be able to handle meeting someone I respected as a musician, but now I think I can handle it. But it is weird--they just waltz in the front door before sound check. Actually, I was pretty starstruck by Erykah Badu, because she's a gorgeous, gorgeous woman. And she was very short. I often am struck by the height of rock stars--they're always taller in your head. Conor Oberst was very short. He also loaded in his own gear, which I was very impressed by. He and Black Heart Procession are probably the only artists I have seen load their own stuff in and not have a bunch of loaders do it for them.

Where do you want to go next, professionally?

I produce a lot of shows for all-ages venues like CoCA and Vera Project. I started a nonprofit organization called Loss Leader with a couple of friends of mine last May, and we're already doing up to six shows a month. I really love doing small gallery shows with experimental music and weird, off-kilter stuff. And it's nice to work with artists who really need a show, but wouldn't be able to do it at the Crocodile or Graceland. We're not going to make a lot of money off it, but we're trying to create opportunities for people to see shows they wouldn't normally find at a club.