The math, the mindset, and the Cindy Effect.
The Money We’re Missing (and Why It’s Not Your Fault)
Let’s be honest.
When most people talk about theatre budgets, they talk about grants. Or sponsors. Or… selling wrapping paper.
But the real money? It’s coming from the mom selling snacks, the dad restocking Diet Coke, and the volunteer guessing granola bar sales because no one counted.
Here’s the truth no one tells you:
Most school and community theatres don’t realize how much money they’re leaving on the table every show weekend. Between cash confusion, last-minute planning, and treating concessions like a sideline, we’ve all missed the opportunity to turn it into a real part of the performance.
And it’s not your fault.
Most setups copy the high school basketball model: folding tables, candy bins, and someone digging for change. But it can be so much more.
This blog isn’t just about selling candy bars and soda. It’s about showing you the math, the missed opportunity, and the small changes that can turn your concession stand from an afterthought into a funding engine for your entire season.
And I’ll start with a story.
The Cindy Effect (with a Little Help from Sara)
Concessions as Community, Not Just Commerce
By the time I retired, I had what can only be described as a mini corporation in my lobby. Under brilliant booster leadership, we made enough money in concessions to fund one additional production a year.
And no, this wasn’t with hot dogs or walking tacos (which, for the record, are just goo in a bag of Fritos sold at triple the price).
We did it with heart.
Let me tell you about Cindy, my last booster leader and resident concession artist. She didn’t just run the table. She designed the experience. Even after her daughter graduated, she stayed. And she brought her best friend, Sara.
I can still hear them laughing in the lobby during tech week, prepping the space, not in a rush… but with joy. They were ready before we were.
They didn’t wait until show week.
They were planning concessions from the very first parent meeting, and at the same time, we announced the musical. It wasn’t an add-on. It was part of the show.
The lobby was decorated. The concession table was themed. The menu was limited and curated. No spoilage, no clutter. Everything was well-lit, intentional, and beautiful. The volunteers were trained and consistent. And the whole space felt like a welcome center, not a checkout line.
And their joy? Contagious.
Parents stopped by just to visit. Kids hung decorations. People grabbed coffee and stayed to talk. And when I needed a break from the chaos inside? I’d go help them. Not because I had to, but because it felt good to be there.
They made concessions feel like a gathering, not a chore.
They made people feel seen, welcome, and happy.
And they tripled our revenue, because people don’t mind spending money when they feel good doing it.
They even went cashless. And you’d think people would’ve complained. But instead? They loved it. People bought more because they weren’t counting crumpled bills, they just tapped, smiled, and bought what they wanted.
That’s how you do concessions.
Not as a task. Not as a leftover booster duty. But as an intentional, joyful, community-driven part of the production.
And sure, maybe not everyone has a Cindy or a Sara.
But you do have an opportunity.
Whether it’s themed treats or bottled water, whether you’re in a school lobby or a rented gym, the numbers don’t lie. This stuff works.
Let’s look at what the math (and a few smart programs) tell us.
The Numbers You Should Know
High margin, low overhead — and way more potential than we think.
Let’s do the math.
Despite what you might assume, concessions are often one of the highest-margin revenue sources in the entire building. In high school, dance, and community events, it’s common to see profit margins of 70 to 80 percent on concession items. Water bottles that cost $0.25 sell for $1. Candy bars? Sometimes 400 percent markup.
“Concession stands are a tremendous source of revenue for school programs and booster clubs.”
Elaina McCormick
Music teacher at Badin High School
And that’s before you get creative.
My friend Ashley runs a program so thoughtfully produced that you’d expect nothing less from her concessions, and they deliver. At one show alone, they made over $3,500 entirely from donated items.
- For most shows, they have specialty themed drinks and cookies..
- For musicals, they sold flowers bundled with show-themed note cards for audience members to give performers…pure profit.
In my own theatre in Holland, we made just shy of $4,000 over a two-week winter musical. But here’s the key:
That wasn’t luck. That was leadership.
People like Cindy, Sara, Michelle, Angela, and Tami made sure I didn’t have to worry about it.
Concessions were planned from the very beginning, not as a side gig, but as part of the show itself. The lobby became a photo booth, a memory-maker, a welcoming hub — and yes, a serious source of income.
Cashless = More Revenue, Less Chaos
And nobody misses counting quarters.
Let’s talk payment. The shift to cashless transactions didn’t just make life easier. It made the numbers better.
- Businesses that start accepting cards often see revenue increase by 20 percent on average.
- A WWFCU.org survey found that 83 percent of respondents saw their sales climb after adding card payment options.
- Capital Repertory Theatre in Albany confirmed: “Customers using cards spend more than those using cash.”
It’s not just about convenience. It’s about human nature.
When people aren’t counting out crumpled singles, they buy more. They upgrade. They add a second snack or a drink. And they don’t overthink it. Cashless removes the friction and the hesitation.
Today, many performing arts centers report that 70 percent or more of concession transactions are now cashless.
TimesUnion.com
The trend is clear:
Fewer lines. Faster sales. Happier volunteers.
And a whole lot less math during intermission.
Explore our companion resource:
Small Changes That Make a Big Difference
You don’t need more volunteers. You need a better plan.
If you’re thinking, “We could never pull all that off,” you’re not alone.
Most groups aren’t starting from a Cindy-and-Sara dream team. They start with three overworked parents, a card table, and a panic run to Costco the night before opening.
That’s okay.
Because the best concession setups didn’t start perfect, they started with a few minor changes that made everything easier:
✅ Plan concessions when you plan the show
Mention it at the first parent meeting. Ask for help early. Add concessions to your production checklist just like lighting, costumes, and programs. Give someone the vision, not just the responsibility. If it’s treated like part of the show, it will get the attention it deserves, and it’ll pay you back.
✅ Keep the menu small and intentional
Three to five high-margin items. Themed treats, if possible. Skip messy stuff. Skip stuff that spills. Offer flower bouquets with custom cards or donation options. Limit waste, not creativity.
✅ Bundle and upsell with purpose
This is where big money hides.
- Family Night Pack: 4 snacks + 2 drinks + a shoutout or CandyGram.
- Small Bundles: “3 items for $5” – Easy to keep track of and easy to order
- Opening Night Bundle: Themed treat, cast button, and printed program.
- Show Merch Tie-Ins: Doing Cinderella? You better believe there’s a table of magic wands labeled “Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo Kits.”
Add some lighting. A sign. A little flair. Themed bundles create joyful impulse buys and look more intentional than whatever’s in the cooler.
✅ Train your team like it’s a cast
Assign roles. Create a simple setup guide. Make the space feel consistent, even fun. The more familiar it feels to your volunteers, the more confident they’ll be, and the better the whole operation will run.
✅ Ditch the cash box… unless you like regret
One year, my boosters handed me a money box after intermission, already counted and rubber-banded with a note:
“We really cleaned up tonight—this will really help the theatre.”
They hid it in our secret spot so they could watch Act II. After the show (and after waiting the standard 45 minutes for kids to change out of one costume), I went to retrieve the box.
The box? Still there.
The note? Still there.
The cash? Gone.
The next year, they gave me a safe.
Which was great.
But I kept forgetting the combo…and with 15 different parents involved, the only person in that theatre that didn’t know the combo? Me.
Cashless is not just convenient—it’s protection. You can still accept cash if needed, but when you move to cards, Venmo, Apple Pay, or pre-orders? You minimize risk and maximize revenue. You protect your hard work.
How Ludus Can Help (Without the Sales Pitch)
You already know Ludus handles ticketing. But if you’ve ever looked at your lobby and thought,
“We could probably run this better,” then Ludus Retail was made for you.
It’s built right into your Ludus dashboard. No new logins. No extra hardware. No spreadsheets left from shows in 1998. Just the right tools for the people who already make your lobby feel like magic.
If you want a system that actually supports the way your people work, without adding more to your plate, this is it.
Here’s what Ludus Retail lets you do — without a spreadsheet or a second platform:
- Sell anything: Snacks, shirts, flowers, themed merch, CandyGrams.
- Cashless or hybrid: Take cards, Apple Pay, Venmo, or still log cash if necessary.
- Track it all: Know what sells best, and stop guessing.
- Bundle items: Build and price Family Packs, Opening Night Deals, or Merch Kits.
- Inventory control: Never overbuy (or run out of the good stuff again).
- Real-time reporting: Nobody ever has to write totals on a sticky note again.
- Pre-ordering items at ticket purchase and just show QR code: skip the line
- Accepting donations and tips right along with purchases.
- Sending digital or printed receipts.
- Works great on phones and tablets—your team can run concessions from anywhere
It’s easy. It’s flexible. And best of all—it’s already there inside Ludus.
It’s not about software, it’s about giving Cindy and Sara a better toolkit. So you can stop worrying about the combo on the safe—and start building something that actually works.
If you’re already using Ludus, it’s waiting for you.
If you’re not—maybe it’s time.
The Danger of a Set-It-and-Forget-It Stand
(aka: What I Learned Texting My Friend Nicholas)
A friend of mine, Nicholas, works at a major performing arts school in Michigan. His booster group handles concessions, which sounds great, until you look under the hood:
- They still run cash only
- They set prices once a year and never adjust them
- They don’t track what sells
- And they ignore that “different shows make different things popular.”
I get it. As directors, we’re often so grateful not to have to manage concessions that we just let it go. We wipe our hands of it and assume, “It’s handled.”
But that is the trap.
Concessions aren’t just a side hustle for parent volunteers. They are an opportunity to add something special to the night and bring in real money, with no extra rehearsals, no extra tech week, and no leftover t-shirts from 2019.
When concessions are intentional, not last minute, they become easy money that funds better lights, cooler props, extra costumes, and the kind of upgrades your audience (and cast) notice.
It’s not about micromanaging.
It’s about recognizing that your lobby is part of the story.
And if you give it attention, it will give back.
Final Bow
Concessions aren’t just about raising money.
They are about lowering stress, building community, and starting the story before the curtain ever rises.
They are about experience.
They are about the first impression when someone walks into your space.
The smell of popcorn. The custom Butterbeer. The flowers that say, “You were amazing tonight.”
If a theatre director ever tells me, “We don’t really do concessions,”
whether it’s said with a whiff of panic or condescension (and let’s be honest, they can sound the same),
I just say:
“Then you’re not just leaving money on the table. You’re forgetting that being a good host means making your guests feel welcomed, comfortable, and, in the words of my mother, ‘well fed.’”
Think like Nonna Gina:
“No one leaves my house without a full belly, a full heart, and arms full of leftovers.”
(OK, total transparency—I didn’t have an Italian grandma. But my friends Jim and Paul did. And their Nonna could have run the front-of-house at Radio City.)
This isn’t about snacks.
It’s about stewardship. About building something that feeds your program and fills your audience.
And if someone told you, “You can raise hundreds for your show just by creating a space where people feel good,” wouldn’t you try?
I would! Especially if it meant two minutes of fresh air away from the stage and the scent of paint fumes and well-worn costumes.
Concessions aren’t an afterthought.
They’re a first impression.
And when done right, they feed more than your audience.
They feed your whole season.
And they are part of the reason I still text Cindy six years after retiring—because if I ever go back to directing, she’s my first call.
(OK, second. My first is to a therapist who can talk me through why I’m going back to directing.)
This is Kevin, writing for Ludus.
And for every booster, every volunteer, and every tired director who’s about to rethink the table in their lobby—
We’re here when you’re ready.
