2005-10-17 - 6:11 p.m.
So our Becky Thatcher quit on Thursday (for those paying attention, i.e., none of you, that'd be the day after their big blowup from Wednesday's entry.) They had one big fight too many, and she called the producer to serve notice right before our final show that day.
Ironically enough, that show turned out to be one of the best ones we've done the whole tour. The show was promoted as a reward to the kids for all their work- I guess their cross country team had done well, they had some anti-drug poster contest, blah blah blah, and so the kids were more excited than they usually were. Frequently, they're given a study guide before they even come down to the show, so they know they're supposed to be learning something, which means that they're less inclined to open up to it, even if it is kinda funny.
These kids were told to just have fun because the show was here primarily to entertain them, and they loved it.
We also had this vibe going that I was kinda hoping would be cathartic for us. For the last few weeks, both of them have been pretty much phoning in their performances because they were bored with the show (i would imagine they could say the same about me, but I THINK I'm trying hard, and i'm certainly not slacking on purpose if i am- i'm just so damn tired. Maybe that's all it is with them, too. Who knows at this point?)
They fight, she quits, and suddenly all the "I HATE YOU" energy gets channeled into the show. There's pop to everything that's going on. There's an almost tangible electricity in the air, and it's being fed by the responsiveness of the kids. At several points, we had to hold for long periods for audience reaction to die down enough for us to move on. It was a great show. I had a faint hope that the emotional release would help to ease the tension, but I forgot who i was dealing with!
Our producer and his last minute everything wasn't helping things any, either. That same day, we didnt' know what hotel we were staying at that night or how to get there till 10 minutes after the end of the last show. Fun.
Then came the Friday from hell. It started off nicely- only 2 shows, both at the same school, with a 2 hour gap in between, long enough to check into our weekend hotel in Normal and get a decent lunch, go to the early afternoon show, and get on with our weekend. Except for the part where FedEx didn't get our package to us on time.
Apparently when FedEx sends something from Chicago to Normal (a 2 hour drive at worst), it has to go on a plane? I dunno why, but crappy weather conditions in Chicago (fog?) delayed the flight, and we didn't get our package with our paychecks in it till about 5:30.
Oh, and in order to make sure we got it, we had to stay at the delivery area, the school, unitl it arrived. In other words, we got to sit, looking like shady child molesters, in a catholic school/church parking lot for 3 hours. THREE HOURS, waiting for the damn package to show up. Becky calls FedEx several times, and is told several different things, leading to her getting pissed enough to get hung up on by the customer service department. Lucky customer service- they could hang up and not have to listen to her anymore. Not so for those of us in the car with her. I just love listening to someone get so frustrated with an operator that they are, quite literally, screaming wordlessly at nothing in particular.
The truly saddest part of the whole thing, honestly, is that Tom Sawyer doesn't seem to realize how irritating he is. Either that, or he's lying when he says he doesn't know what it is that's setting her off so much. I'm not sure which is worse- that he deliberately baits her into getting pissed and then pretends to me that he doesn't know why it's happening, which makes him an asshole and a liar, or B) that he's so completely socially retarded that he honestly DOESN'T know why it's happening.
I don't care anymore. One of them is leaving, meaning there'll be a new dynamic to adjust to. I wish The Guy would go, too, so I could be rid of both of them, but for now I'll just take a new Becky, and hopefully the tourwill be over before they have time to come to hate each other, and New Becky will at least put on better performance than Old Becky. And by the time Old Becky finishes her last 2 weeks, I'll have 3 1/2 weeks of tour left, one of which is in Milwaukee, so I can get away for awhile, then a week in Madison, where i can get away some more, then just 1 1/2 week left, possibly less.
2 weeks, break, 2 more weeks. That's what I keep telling myself. And I have a cold. Joy.
I promise something other than complaining about the total asshats I work with and for in my next entry, or the sad state of my body. For now I'm gonna wallow in hate and nyQuil and try to feel better in time for the show tomorrow.
Ken
Interestingly enough, this song came on my randomizer while I was writing this, so I'm gonna post the lyrics, because they're quite appropriate.
We come on the sloop John B
My grandfather and me
Around Nassau town we did roam
Drinking all night
Got into a fight
Well I feel so broke up
I want to go home
So hoist up the John B's sail
See how the mainsail sets
Call for the Captain ashore
Let me go home, let me go home
I wanna go home, yeah yeah
Well I feel so broke up
I wanna go home
The first mate he got drunk
And broke in the Cap'n's trunk
The constable had to come and take him away
Sheriff John Stone
Why don't you leave me alone, yeah yeah
Well I feel so broke up I wanna go home
So hoist up the John B's sail
See how the mainsail sets
Call for the Captain ashore
Let me go home, let me go home
I wanna go home, let me go home
Why don't you let me go home
(Hoist up the John B's sail)
Hoist up the John B
I feel so broke up I wanna go home
Let me go home
The poor cook he caught the fits
And threw away all my grits
And then he took and he ate up all of my corn
Let me go home
Why don't they let me go home
This is the worst trip I've ever been on
So hoist up the John B's sail
See how the mainsail sets
Call for the Captain ashore
Let me go home, let me go home
I wanna go home, let me go home
Why don't you let me go home
�
