Just chill
It's not like my head was under the Sierra Nevada beer tap.
(Although the thought had crossed my mind.)
I forgot my water bottle and I was dying.
All I really wanted was a spritz of Coke. High sugar and caffeine to get me through a full dress-rehearsal for tonight's show.
She was on a cell phone.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK THERE? YOU CAN'T BE BACK THERE!"
She screamed this.
Not, "Hey, can I get you to not be back there?"
"Just hoping to get a little Coke, I'm really thirsty."
"YOU CAN'T BE BACK THERE! WHY ARE YOU BACK THERE? YOU NEED TO GET OUT FROM BACK THERE!"
Fucking bitch.
She was the theater's "house manager." A volunteer position by the way.
I guess absolute power does corrupt absolutely.
I put the cup down, began to walk from behind the snack bar (stuck my head under the beer tap for a long pull; no I kid) and walked passed her to the water fountain and guzzled.
"You know, all you needed to say was other than staff, no one else was allowed back there. Maybe in a lower tone."
She just stared, and walked off.
It was my fault, I guess. I forgot my water bottle and I was dying. While they're going to provide water and food for the dancers today (practice starts at noon; makeup at 5 p.m. and the show is at 7 p.m.), they didn't bring any for Friday's dress-rehearsal.
Funny thing was, the fat guy running the sound board - and his fat fucking kid running around the theater - were guzzling sodas.
Guzzling.
The house bitch even had one (and every time I entered the lobby, so did she; I guess you cross the line and you become a marked man).
Over the course of two rough-and-tumble years, I've learn a lot of valuable lessons.
One is to take care of myself and speak up when needed.
The other was to feel the physical aspect of emotions so I could let go of those, too.
There are people in this world who are just there to annoy.
House bitch was one of those.
I said my peace. I let it go.
(And thanks to Blogger, my muse, it all flowed out into The Tension.)
(Although the thought had crossed my mind.)
I forgot my water bottle and I was dying.
All I really wanted was a spritz of Coke. High sugar and caffeine to get me through a full dress-rehearsal for tonight's show.
She was on a cell phone.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK THERE? YOU CAN'T BE BACK THERE!"
She screamed this.
Not, "Hey, can I get you to not be back there?"
"Just hoping to get a little Coke, I'm really thirsty."
"YOU CAN'T BE BACK THERE! WHY ARE YOU BACK THERE? YOU NEED TO GET OUT FROM BACK THERE!"
Fucking bitch.
She was the theater's "house manager." A volunteer position by the way.
I guess absolute power does corrupt absolutely.
I put the cup down, began to walk from behind the snack bar (stuck my head under the beer tap for a long pull; no I kid) and walked passed her to the water fountain and guzzled.
"You know, all you needed to say was other than staff, no one else was allowed back there. Maybe in a lower tone."
She just stared, and walked off.
It was my fault, I guess. I forgot my water bottle and I was dying. While they're going to provide water and food for the dancers today (practice starts at noon; makeup at 5 p.m. and the show is at 7 p.m.), they didn't bring any for Friday's dress-rehearsal.
Funny thing was, the fat guy running the sound board - and his fat fucking kid running around the theater - were guzzling sodas.
Guzzling.
The house bitch even had one (and every time I entered the lobby, so did she; I guess you cross the line and you become a marked man).
Over the course of two rough-and-tumble years, I've learn a lot of valuable lessons.
One is to take care of myself and speak up when needed.
The other was to feel the physical aspect of emotions so I could let go of those, too.
There are people in this world who are just there to annoy.
House bitch was one of those.
I said my peace. I let it go.
(And thanks to Blogger, my muse, it all flowed out into The Tension.)
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