Go see this movie.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Pretend this is a bunch of little posts
BBQ
Yes, the barbecue was good. Yes. Yes, it was. HOWEVER, I'm a little surprised at all the press this place is getting. Part of what makes a barbecue sandwich taste so good is the fact that it doesn't usually cost TWELVE DOLLARS. With NO SIDES!
So yeah. It was good. Damn good. Twelve dollars good? Maybe after a couple Long Island Iced teas.
And excuuuse me, princess, but since when is brisket only available chopped up on a sandwich?
Don't get me wrong! The sandwich was great! But come on. I was really hoping for some SLICED brisket. But sliced brisket wasn't even an option. In fact, the Fat Republican Texas BBQ Sandwich was the ONLY beef brisket option on the whole six-item menu!
I'm torn. It was so good. And yet...so overpriced and underwhelming and succulent and delicious and disappointing all at once.
I think I'll stick to Everycity BBQ on Forty-Deuce. It might not be quite as good, but once you slather your meat in sauce you can't really tell a difference anyway (unless, of course, we're talking about Rudy's--a.k.a., the official restaurant of Heaven). And $12 at Everycity BBQ gets you a platter. Why go quality when you can go quantity? Besides, if you're eating barbecue correctly, the room should already be spinning and your tastebuds slightly numbed by the time the barbecue consuela brings out your heaping dish.
That's what I'm talking about.
The Day of the Show
It's the day of the show, y'all.
Good grief. How many times am I gonna hear that tonight?
Seriously though.
Last night...
Director: Fork, I think this time, we need to make you a little less lumberjack and more computer nerd. Arrogant computer nerd, and try to seem really disinterested and unenthusiastic, but with energy so you still contrast from Actor Will. Oh, and I want to split the difference here, so make sure, no matter what happens, NEVER smile.
Me: Never smile.
Director: Never smile. Okay, a few more notes. All three of you guys who enter in this scene with Actor Will, remember, you're here for a party! Have fun! Be really excited to be there! That goes for all three of you, okay?
Me: (sotto) Never smile.
And I keep having this recurring nightmare that I make the prop girl in our show cry. Only thing is, we don't have a prop girl.
Pokémania
Managed to get some stuff up on the Theology Arcade, but here are some decidedly UNtheological stuff regarding the Pokémon event I helped out at this past Sunday.
I worked the big New York launch party celebrating the grand return of Pokémon to the United States this weekend. Pokémon never really left since they infested the States ten years ago, but this is the first "new" game in the series to be released in a while, so Nintendo decided it was time to go all-out and re-introduce the Pocket Monsters to the generation of kids who grew up wanting to play the games like their older brothers and sisters but couldn't read.
Conventions and fan-events like these are always completely unpredictable. Sometimes they're really lame. Sometimes they're really eye-opening. This was one of those times. Not just in the let's-go-and-watch-the-crazy-fans sort of way, but in the where's-the-Poképarenting-class? sort of way.
It's always fun to go to these events and see which people are going to dress up. Most conventional folks look at the cos-players and say, "Those people are INSANE!" Personally, I think they're kinda cool, as long as they don't think they're actually a grand-wizard elf lord when they put their plastic ears on. Some of them put a lot of work into their costumes.
Case in point.
But then there's Pikachu Man.
In case you've been living under a cultural rock the past decade, a Pikachu is sort of like the Mickey Mouse of the Pokémon franchise. It's a yellow rat with a lighting bolt for a tail and has two bright red circles on its cheeks (the Pokénerd in me tells me I should add "the red circles are actually for conducting electricity" but I won't.)
Pikachu Man wears a camera around his neck. He has thick glasses, a pasty complexion, a permanent smile on his face. He wears a Pikachu hat wherever he goes.
But best of all, Pikachu Man shaves his facial hair so that he leaves two big circular patches on either side of his cheeks. Then he dyes them red.
The regulars told me he comes to the Pokémon events all the time and that everyone keeps a sharp eye on him. I mean, how could you not without worrying that some child's life may depend on it? He walks up to complete strangers and starts talking to their children as if the parents aren't there. When a kid is getting its picture taken with a Pokémon costume character, there's Pikachu Man standing a few feet off to the side snapping a few of his own.
When asked why he was doing that by one of the video game website reporters who were covering the event, Pikachu Man replied in a very coherent, I-clearly-have-all-my-faculties voice, "I don't want children to be afraid of me. I love children. I'm here to have a good time like everybody else. Why can't anybody see that?"
But then this is where it gets really interesting, not that cross dressing animé otakus and potential sex offenders weren't interesting in their own right. But this is what Pokémon is really about...
The Pokénerds. The Pokédorks. The Pokéchildren.
The Pokékids are easy to spot, although like the little critters they covet, they come in a variety of shapes, colors, and sizes. What they all have in common, however, is a certain frantic energy hidden behind an easily cracked veneer of shyness. All of them.
Typically, they wear sweat pants and some sort of t-shirt that may or may not have been purchased within the past five years, they have messy hair, and, possibly the worst offense, they don't seem to have a very good grasp of manners (the rich kids are the exception. They wear knit shirts with collars and spend a lot of time looking sheepishly at the ground, wishing they could let loose and have a good time while their too-tanned mothers complain that they'd rather be at Sak's ("too-tanned mothers"? Holy crap, I hope that comment doesn't get me fired from a high-profile radio show)). I doubt anyone has sat down to teach them how to hold a fork at a dinner table. No, really. I doubt it very much. They're WELL on their way to becoming Warcraft addicts.
I know this sounds like I'm totally ripping on nerdy kids, but I'm really not. I was a huge dork back in the day, but despite that, my parents were determined to instill in in their children an unwavering appreciation for manners and appropriateness, both of which my acting teachers and subsequent discovery of alcohol would eventually destroy, but the core values abide.
The Pokékids also talk very loudly and wide eyed about what they feel is very important. It would be cute if it weren't so...well. Here's an example.
Pokémom: Barry, did you have something you wanted to ask this man? He's teaching people how to play the game so he could probably answer your questions.
Barry: ............
Pokédad: Come on, Barry. Speak up now.
Barry: DO YOU KNOW IF THERE'S A DOWNLOAD STATION WHERE I CAN JACK IN MY NINTENDO GAME BOY ADVANCE SP TO DOWNLOAD THE FOUR LEGENDARY POKéMON ONTO MY LIMITED EDITION POKéMON RUBYRED GAME CARTRIDGE?
Me: Sorry, kiddo. We're not doing that anymore.
Barry: BUT I READ ABOUT IT ONLINE THAT THERE WAS A DOWNLOAD STATION WHERE I CAN JACK IN MY NINTENDO GAME BOY ADVANCE SP TO DOWNLOAD THE FOUR LEGENDARY POKéMON.
Me: Yeah. Sorry.
Barry: Okay.
And the Poképarents just enable all this. They're even worse than the kids, if you want my honest opinion. Heck-bent on collecting as much free swag as possible, one mother commented, "You all should have free posters. Why don't you have free posters?"
We have free balloons, free tattoos, free coloring pages, free keychains, free crap, free crap, and more free crap. And the woman wants a free poster.
Me: Well, there's a free poster folded up inside the instruction manual of the video game.
"That's true, I guess."
Good grief, people! It's GARBAGE! This is like working at the dog show all over again! You've got a million dollar dog and you're going to feed it a FREE SAMPLE of some random dog food?? And simply because it's free doesn't mean you're automatically ENTITLED to it. But try explaining that to the one dad who got FURIOUS with me because we were out of FREE BALLOONS.
"Didn't they KNOW they were going to have a HUGE crowd?!"
I braced myself for the ol' "They're just doing this to create a demand!" but it didn't come.
Parents, please. Your child is growing up to be a social retard. Pokémon is fine and all, but children don't know about temperance and balance. They don't look at the video game clock that tells you you've logged in 40+ hours into the game and think, "Dear Cod! What am I DOING with my LIFE?!"
But what do I get? A half dozen parents who tell me, "Yeah, Junior over dere loves dese Pokéwhatsits. He explains it to be but I'm really not dat interested so's I just lets him play. I can't figure dat stuff out."
Well. How can you argue with THAT?
Watch the video for a Pokésurprise!
Big Changes
I'm thinking of making a seriously huge change in my life!
Should I:
Go to seminary?
Move home with Mother Darling and act out my favorite scenes from "Grey Gardens" as I grow into the "talented yet directionless offspring that never quite found his 'path'"?
Stay in New York and cross my fingers?
Get PAID to live in JAPAN and teach English as a Second Language?
Yes, the barbecue was good. Yes. Yes, it was. HOWEVER, I'm a little surprised at all the press this place is getting. Part of what makes a barbecue sandwich taste so good is the fact that it doesn't usually cost TWELVE DOLLARS. With NO SIDES!
So yeah. It was good. Damn good. Twelve dollars good? Maybe after a couple Long Island Iced teas.
And excuuuse me, princess, but since when is brisket only available chopped up on a sandwich?
Don't get me wrong! The sandwich was great! But come on. I was really hoping for some SLICED brisket. But sliced brisket wasn't even an option. In fact, the Fat Republican Texas BBQ Sandwich was the ONLY beef brisket option on the whole six-item menu!
I'm torn. It was so good. And yet...so overpriced and underwhelming and succulent and delicious and disappointing all at once.
I think I'll stick to Everycity BBQ on Forty-Deuce. It might not be quite as good, but once you slather your meat in sauce you can't really tell a difference anyway (unless, of course, we're talking about Rudy's--a.k.a., the official restaurant of Heaven). And $12 at Everycity BBQ gets you a platter. Why go quality when you can go quantity? Besides, if you're eating barbecue correctly, the room should already be spinning and your tastebuds slightly numbed by the time the barbecue consuela brings out your heaping dish.
That's what I'm talking about.
The Day of the Show
It's the day of the show, y'all.
Good grief. How many times am I gonna hear that tonight?
Seriously though.
Last night...
Director: Fork, I think this time, we need to make you a little less lumberjack and more computer nerd. Arrogant computer nerd, and try to seem really disinterested and unenthusiastic, but with energy so you still contrast from Actor Will. Oh, and I want to split the difference here, so make sure, no matter what happens, NEVER smile.
Me: Never smile.
Director: Never smile. Okay, a few more notes. All three of you guys who enter in this scene with Actor Will, remember, you're here for a party! Have fun! Be really excited to be there! That goes for all three of you, okay?
Me: (sotto) Never smile.
And I keep having this recurring nightmare that I make the prop girl in our show cry. Only thing is, we don't have a prop girl.
Pokémania
Managed to get some stuff up on the Theology Arcade, but here are some decidedly UNtheological stuff regarding the Pokémon event I helped out at this past Sunday.
I worked the big New York launch party celebrating the grand return of Pokémon to the United States this weekend. Pokémon never really left since they infested the States ten years ago, but this is the first "new" game in the series to be released in a while, so Nintendo decided it was time to go all-out and re-introduce the Pocket Monsters to the generation of kids who grew up wanting to play the games like their older brothers and sisters but couldn't read.
Conventions and fan-events like these are always completely unpredictable. Sometimes they're really lame. Sometimes they're really eye-opening. This was one of those times. Not just in the let's-go-and-watch-the-crazy-fans sort of way, but in the where's-the-Poképarenting-class? sort of way.
It's always fun to go to these events and see which people are going to dress up. Most conventional folks look at the cos-players and say, "Those people are INSANE!" Personally, I think they're kinda cool, as long as they don't think they're actually a grand-wizard elf lord when they put their plastic ears on. Some of them put a lot of work into their costumes.
Case in point.
But then there's Pikachu Man.
In case you've been living under a cultural rock the past decade, a Pikachu is sort of like the Mickey Mouse of the Pokémon franchise. It's a yellow rat with a lighting bolt for a tail and has two bright red circles on its cheeks (the Pokénerd in me tells me I should add "the red circles are actually for conducting electricity" but I won't.)
Pikachu Man wears a camera around his neck. He has thick glasses, a pasty complexion, a permanent smile on his face. He wears a Pikachu hat wherever he goes.
But best of all, Pikachu Man shaves his facial hair so that he leaves two big circular patches on either side of his cheeks. Then he dyes them red.
The regulars told me he comes to the Pokémon events all the time and that everyone keeps a sharp eye on him. I mean, how could you not without worrying that some child's life may depend on it? He walks up to complete strangers and starts talking to their children as if the parents aren't there. When a kid is getting its picture taken with a Pokémon costume character, there's Pikachu Man standing a few feet off to the side snapping a few of his own.
When asked why he was doing that by one of the video game website reporters who were covering the event, Pikachu Man replied in a very coherent, I-clearly-have-all-my-faculties voice, "I don't want children to be afraid of me. I love children. I'm here to have a good time like everybody else. Why can't anybody see that?"
But then this is where it gets really interesting, not that cross dressing animé otakus and potential sex offenders weren't interesting in their own right. But this is what Pokémon is really about...
The Pokénerds. The Pokédorks. The Pokéchildren.
The Pokékids are easy to spot, although like the little critters they covet, they come in a variety of shapes, colors, and sizes. What they all have in common, however, is a certain frantic energy hidden behind an easily cracked veneer of shyness. All of them.
Typically, they wear sweat pants and some sort of t-shirt that may or may not have been purchased within the past five years, they have messy hair, and, possibly the worst offense, they don't seem to have a very good grasp of manners (the rich kids are the exception. They wear knit shirts with collars and spend a lot of time looking sheepishly at the ground, wishing they could let loose and have a good time while their too-tanned mothers complain that they'd rather be at Sak's ("too-tanned mothers"? Holy crap, I hope that comment doesn't get me fired from a high-profile radio show)). I doubt anyone has sat down to teach them how to hold a fork at a dinner table. No, really. I doubt it very much. They're WELL on their way to becoming Warcraft addicts.
I know this sounds like I'm totally ripping on nerdy kids, but I'm really not. I was a huge dork back in the day, but despite that, my parents were determined to instill in in their children an unwavering appreciation for manners and appropriateness, both of which my acting teachers and subsequent discovery of alcohol would eventually destroy, but the core values abide.
The Pokékids also talk very loudly and wide eyed about what they feel is very important. It would be cute if it weren't so...well. Here's an example.
Pokémom: Barry, did you have something you wanted to ask this man? He's teaching people how to play the game so he could probably answer your questions.
Barry: ............
Pokédad: Come on, Barry. Speak up now.
Barry: DO YOU KNOW IF THERE'S A DOWNLOAD STATION WHERE I CAN JACK IN MY NINTENDO GAME BOY ADVANCE SP TO DOWNLOAD THE FOUR LEGENDARY POKéMON ONTO MY LIMITED EDITION POKéMON RUBYRED GAME CARTRIDGE?
Me: Sorry, kiddo. We're not doing that anymore.
Barry: BUT I READ ABOUT IT ONLINE THAT THERE WAS A DOWNLOAD STATION WHERE I CAN JACK IN MY NINTENDO GAME BOY ADVANCE SP TO DOWNLOAD THE FOUR LEGENDARY POKéMON.
Me: Yeah. Sorry.
Barry: Okay.
And the Poképarents just enable all this. They're even worse than the kids, if you want my honest opinion. Heck-bent on collecting as much free swag as possible, one mother commented, "You all should have free posters. Why don't you have free posters?"
We have free balloons, free tattoos, free coloring pages, free keychains, free crap, free crap, and more free crap. And the woman wants a free poster.
Me: Well, there's a free poster folded up inside the instruction manual of the video game.
"That's true, I guess."
Good grief, people! It's GARBAGE! This is like working at the dog show all over again! You've got a million dollar dog and you're going to feed it a FREE SAMPLE of some random dog food?? And simply because it's free doesn't mean you're automatically ENTITLED to it. But try explaining that to the one dad who got FURIOUS with me because we were out of FREE BALLOONS.
"Didn't they KNOW they were going to have a HUGE crowd?!"
I braced myself for the ol' "They're just doing this to create a demand!" but it didn't come.
Parents, please. Your child is growing up to be a social retard. Pokémon is fine and all, but children don't know about temperance and balance. They don't look at the video game clock that tells you you've logged in 40+ hours into the game and think, "Dear Cod! What am I DOING with my LIFE?!"
But what do I get? A half dozen parents who tell me, "Yeah, Junior over dere loves dese Pokéwhatsits. He explains it to be but I'm really not dat interested so's I just lets him play. I can't figure dat stuff out."
Well. How can you argue with THAT?
Watch the video for a Pokésurprise!
Big Changes
I'm thinking of making a seriously huge change in my life!
Should I:
Go to seminary?
Move home with Mother Darling and act out my favorite scenes from "Grey Gardens" as I grow into the "talented yet directionless offspring that never quite found his 'path'"?
Stay in New York and cross my fingers?
Get PAID to live in JAPAN and teach English as a Second Language?
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Lunchtime
It's almost lunchtime.
I'm really excited about that.
Full review on "best BBQ in New York City" to come...
I'm really excited about that.
Full review on "best BBQ in New York City" to come...
Friday, April 20, 2007
Up and Running
After a number of delays, mostly due to much-needed naps after a long day of "temp work", the Theology Arcade is finally up and running. And not a moment too soon. This weekend is going to be nuts.
First of all, I'm WAY behind on my Bible studies. AND, now that I'm managing two blogs, I've got a lot of work to do. I haven't even touched my ukulele. Well--I DID, but I snapped one of the strings in my feeble attempts to tune the dang instrument. Fortunately, nobody saw me do it and I just knotted up the broken end and re-attached it.
Tomorrow I have big plans. Apparently, the best BBQ joint in the city of New York is a mere TWO blocks away from my apartment. I intend to visit there tomorrow for lunch or dinner. Expect a review.
Then on Sunday, I'm ditching the Episcopalians in favor of making some quick cash at Nofriendo World. Yes, the Pokermon are returning to the United States and they need people to work the event. They're renting out ALL of Rocketfella Center to put this shindig on. Should be hellish. I can't wait.
In other news, rehearsals are still stupid.
Me: He guys! For the run through tonight, I brought some healthy cookies and even some dried fruit so we can practice eating actual food for the scenes where we have to munch on stuff.
Lucy Goosey: Oh great! Thanks, Fork!
Director: Okay, let's run the scene where you get really angry, Lucy.
Lucy: Okay!
Actor Will: Where is't the fair Princess Yasriel?
Lucy: Shut thine mouth! (Lucy Goosey pelts Actor Will with ALL the cookies).
Okay. I'm done.
First of all, I'm WAY behind on my Bible studies. AND, now that I'm managing two blogs, I've got a lot of work to do. I haven't even touched my ukulele. Well--I DID, but I snapped one of the strings in my feeble attempts to tune the dang instrument. Fortunately, nobody saw me do it and I just knotted up the broken end and re-attached it.
Tomorrow I have big plans. Apparently, the best BBQ joint in the city of New York is a mere TWO blocks away from my apartment. I intend to visit there tomorrow for lunch or dinner. Expect a review.
Then on Sunday, I'm ditching the Episcopalians in favor of making some quick cash at Nofriendo World. Yes, the Pokermon are returning to the United States and they need people to work the event. They're renting out ALL of Rocketfella Center to put this shindig on. Should be hellish. I can't wait.
In other news, rehearsals are still stupid.
Me: He guys! For the run through tonight, I brought some healthy cookies and even some dried fruit so we can practice eating actual food for the scenes where we have to munch on stuff.
Lucy Goosey: Oh great! Thanks, Fork!
Director: Okay, let's run the scene where you get really angry, Lucy.
Lucy: Okay!
Actor Will: Where is't the fair Princess Yasriel?
Lucy: Shut thine mouth! (Lucy Goosey pelts Actor Will with ALL the cookies).
Okay. I'm done.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
More Director...though not part 2
Director: Forky, I know we discussed your character being the fun, excited one...the script certainly seems to indicate that with all the exclaimation marks at the end of your lines and saying you do things "cheerily" and "happily"...
Me: Uh huh...?
Director: But I think you may be too lovable. And this is the end of the play. This is where the hero is in the process of sinking into dispair over the death of Princess Yasriel. I just feel like you're too fun.
Me: Oh. Yeah. I kind of thought the stark contrast was the point though.
Director: Yeah, yeah, I know. But...I need you--what I need from you is instead of playing it so fun and cheery, I need you to be more...Harbinger of Doom.
Me:..........
Director: Just something to keep in the back of your mind when we run this again.
42nd Floorers, I do not make this stuff up. How could I??
P.S. Many apologies for the protracted delay of the first big post over at the Theology Arcade. I have absolutely zero (0) going on tomorrow afternoon/evening so you can bet your butt it'll be done with it by then. To those of you itching to discuss video game violence from a Christian perspective, thanks for your patience...hang on just a little longer.
Me: Uh huh...?
Director: But I think you may be too lovable. And this is the end of the play. This is where the hero is in the process of sinking into dispair over the death of Princess Yasriel. I just feel like you're too fun.
Me: Oh. Yeah. I kind of thought the stark contrast was the point though.
Director: Yeah, yeah, I know. But...I need you--what I need from you is instead of playing it so fun and cheery, I need you to be more...Harbinger of Doom.
Me:..........
Director: Just something to keep in the back of your mind when we run this again.
42nd Floorers, I do not make this stuff up. How could I??
P.S. Many apologies for the protracted delay of the first big post over at the Theology Arcade. I have absolutely zero (0) going on tomorrow afternoon/evening so you can bet your butt it'll be done with it by then. To those of you itching to discuss video game violence from a Christian perspective, thanks for your patience...hang on just a little longer.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Nor'easter Bunny
The City survived the Nor'easter, but only just. Last night was the first time I've heard thunder since moving here. And I heard it twice! Normally, you can tell it's raining outside by the sound of plink, plink, plink in the alley outside my bedroom window. The elements don't really make it back there. Only a few drops seem to get in.
Not last night. It sounded like Niagra Falls out there. I wasn't too worried about flooding. Our building is on a slight hill so for my darling New York to pull a New Orleans, the Hudson would have to rise about eleventy feet before flooding the subways, our basement, the underground village of the mole people, and then crawling up our front stoop. But first it'd have to buzz to be let in.
It's still raining out there, but more like a frigid drizzle. It was this very frigid drizzle that made me opt NOT to do any cardio today (I know, right? A few raindrops and I'm totally unruly!). It was also this frigid drizzle which made--er--work today a little more difficult than usual. I kept half expecting one of the artists to say, "Umm, could you not make your skin go all goose-bumpy like that? Oh, and contort your left knee a little more behind your right ear. Thanks."
Oh my gosh! I almost forgot!
Some Jehovah's Witnesses ladies stopped by the art studio the other day and dropped off a tract. The wicked little munchkin that lives in the back of my brains REALLY wanted the art students to invite them in for a cup of coffee. I mean, I would have. I was cold outside. The ladies didn't get any farther than the front door.
Honestly, some people have no sense of hospitality.
Heh heh heh...
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Nor'easterner
I've never written that word before now. Nor'easterner. As my fingers glide across my ergonomic keyboard, now somewhat grimy with age, use, and love, they stumble over each other trying to click out that word.
Nor'easterner.
There, that time wasn't so bad.
Yes, folks, the City that never sleeps is in for it tomorrow. 100% chance of rain with flooding and wind gusts up to 50 miles per hour. It's time to stay inside.
And that's okay. After all, I have plenty to do in my $2000 a month apartment. I have a Bible study I can do instead of going to church, for example. Then there's the new blog I'm busily working on so's I can have something impressive to show youse guys. And, of course, there are always crunches.
Or, perhaps, the most wonderful thing of all...
I could begin learning how to play the ukulele.
That's right, 42nd Floorers. I bought the cheapest ukulele in the city of New York and will soon be twanging away on the instrument many call "not as difficult as the guitar".
So bring on the rain! I've got my uke to keep me warm!
Nor'easterner.
There, that time wasn't so bad.
Yes, folks, the City that never sleeps is in for it tomorrow. 100% chance of rain with flooding and wind gusts up to 50 miles per hour. It's time to stay inside.
And that's okay. After all, I have plenty to do in my $2000 a month apartment. I have a Bible study I can do instead of going to church, for example. Then there's the new blog I'm busily working on so's I can have something impressive to show youse guys. And, of course, there are always crunches.
Or, perhaps, the most wonderful thing of all...
I could begin learning how to play the ukulele.
That's right, 42nd Floorers. I bought the cheapest ukulele in the city of New York and will soon be twanging away on the instrument many call "not as difficult as the guitar".
So bring on the rain! I've got my uke to keep me warm!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Rehearsal
Director: Okay gang. Since this is the first time we're doing this scene on its feet, I want you guys to just...do whatever you feel like. Don't worry about blocking right now. Let's just go with our instincts and move when you feel it's appropriate, okay? Just so I can see it in action. And...go.
Forky: Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest with me a sword of such beauty, even the very sword you requested of me to make. Wouldst you care to try it out?
Actor Will: Certainly, gentle swordsmith. And right timely you are, for I sense my growing need of such a craftsman as thyself with each passing day.
Forky: Wherefore, my prince? What troubles haunt thy slumbers and, perchance, thy waking hours?
Director: Hold guys. Forky, when you enter, I'd like you to go directly to the cabinet and pour yourself a glass of wine.
Forky: .... (?) Oh...kay. Okay. Sure.
Director: So let's take it back to the beginning. Annnnd go.
Forky: Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest with me a sword of such--
Director: Could you cross downstage of the table?
Forky: Cross...in front of Prince William?
Director: Yeah. Let's take it again.
Forky: Okay. Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest--
Director: Hold please. Forky, could you put a bigger pause between those two sentences? Right now they're reading like one thought and I think it would be nice if they were more like...two. So...yeah. Two very different thoughts. Let's take it again.
Forky: ...Oh. Kay. I mean--okay.
Director: And go.
Forky: Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest with me a sword of such beauty, even the very sword you requested of me to make. Wouldst you care to try it out?
Actor Will: Certainly, gentle swordsmith. And right timely you are, for I sense my growing need of such a craftsman as thyself with each passing day.
Forky: Wherefore, my prince? What troubles haunt thy slumbers and, perchance, thy waking hours?
Actor Will: Tarry not! I promised thee a payment for the weapon and here 'tis, to the thruppence. --And is this where I give him the money?
Director: Yes.
Actor Will: Okay. Could I get some paper or something to give him for now?
Director: Sure. And Forky, where are you coming from?
Forky: Oh. Um. I guess I'm probably coming from my blacksmith shop.
Director: What was the trip like?
Forky: What was the trip like?
Director: Yeah. Just some basic backstory. Nothing too in-depth. Was it an easy trip? Was it a hard trip? Has it been raining? Did you maybe have to walk through a lot of mud on the way here? Did you see anybody you knew? If so, who was it and what were they wearing? What are their names and ages? What did they say to you? How do you feel about them? Do you like them? If you don't, do you still pretend to like them anyway? How long have they lived in the village with you? Did you make horseshoes for their horses? What kind of horses do they have? How many? Are they nice? Do you know people who can afford nice things? Can you afford nice things? Are you invited to their parties? Have you met the Queen?
Forky: Wow, I...um... I think my character...probably...keeps to himself and doesn't know anybody. At all. Except William.
Director: Great. Guys, just so you all know, these are important questions you need to be asking yourself. So you're a hermit.
Forky: Yyyyyyyyes. Yes, I am. A blacksmith and...a hermit.
Director: Can I see you play that?
Forky: Play "hermit"?
Director: Yes.
Forky: Okay.
Director: Okay, let's take it again.
Forky: Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest with me a sword of such beauty, even the very sword you requested of me to make.
(pause. Forky suddenly hops a little as he realizes he's not done with his line)
Forky: OH! Duh. Wouldst you care to try it out?
Actor Will: Certainly, gentle swordsmi--
Director: Hold please. Forky, that was really good, but I'm not sure how I feel about that long pause. It seemed to stop the action.
Forky: Oh! YEAH! I'm sorry, I was just trying to do it from memory and--pbbt--brain fart.
Director: What do you--? You mean that's how you want to do it for the show? Do you see the swordsmith as absent-minded?
Forky: No. I mean, I, meaning me, the actor, just forgot my line.
Director: Because if you want him to be absent-minded we could always--
Forky: No, I think it's fine. It's fine. It's fine. I just forgot my line and now I remember it. No problemo.
Director: Okay. Keep going then.
Actor Will: Certainly, gentle swordsmith. And right timely you are, for I sense my growing need of such a craftsman as thyself with each passing day.
Forky: Wherefore, my prince? What troubles haunt thy slumbers and, perchance, thy waking hours?
Actor Will: Tarry not! I promised thee a payment for the weapon and here 'tis, to the thruppence. (hands Forky a handful of paper-scraps)
Forky: But mine Prince! Thou must tell thy servant what befell Princess Yasriel!
Actor Will: Better to not speak of the fair Princess Yasriel. For I fear she is lost. Lost. LOST!
Director: Hold please. Forky, count the money.
Forky: Count the money.
Director: Yes. When someone gives you money, your first instinct is to count it.
Forky: Yeah, um. I don't know if that feels quite appropri--
Director: I mean, that's what I do. When somebody pays me. Don't you do that, stage manager?
Stage manager: Yes.
Director: So let's take it again, and this time, make sure to count the money when he gives it to you, then proceed.
Forky: Okay.
Director: You're all doing really great. Everybody ready? Annnnnd...go.
Forky: Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest with me a sword of such beauty, even the very sword you requested of me to make. Wouldst you care to--
Director: Hold. Forky, you're going directly to the wine cabinet.
Forky: Yeah, you told me to--
Director: I like what you're doing, but I'm really conflicted about this. I mean, did you know there was going to be wine there? Has your character been here before?
Forky: You told me to--
Director: I just feel like it looks like you're entering and immediately going to the wine cabinet because I told you to do it.
Forky: That's because--
Director: Let's try it again, only this time, make it look like I didn't tell you to go straight to the wine cabinet.
Forky: Okay. Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest with me a sword of such beauty, even the very sword you requested of me to make. Wouldst you care to try it out? (as if a thought occurred to him) Ah. Glass of wine.
Director: Hold please.
To be continued...
Forky: Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest with me a sword of such beauty, even the very sword you requested of me to make. Wouldst you care to try it out?
Actor Will: Certainly, gentle swordsmith. And right timely you are, for I sense my growing need of such a craftsman as thyself with each passing day.
Forky: Wherefore, my prince? What troubles haunt thy slumbers and, perchance, thy waking hours?
Director: Hold guys. Forky, when you enter, I'd like you to go directly to the cabinet and pour yourself a glass of wine.
Forky: .... (?) Oh...kay. Okay. Sure.
Director: So let's take it back to the beginning. Annnnd go.
Forky: Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest with me a sword of such--
Director: Could you cross downstage of the table?
Forky: Cross...in front of Prince William?
Director: Yeah. Let's take it again.
Forky: Okay. Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest--
Director: Hold please. Forky, could you put a bigger pause between those two sentences? Right now they're reading like one thought and I think it would be nice if they were more like...two. So...yeah. Two very different thoughts. Let's take it again.
Forky: ...Oh. Kay. I mean--okay.
Director: And go.
Forky: Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest with me a sword of such beauty, even the very sword you requested of me to make. Wouldst you care to try it out?
Actor Will: Certainly, gentle swordsmith. And right timely you are, for I sense my growing need of such a craftsman as thyself with each passing day.
Forky: Wherefore, my prince? What troubles haunt thy slumbers and, perchance, thy waking hours?
Actor Will: Tarry not! I promised thee a payment for the weapon and here 'tis, to the thruppence. --And is this where I give him the money?
Director: Yes.
Actor Will: Okay. Could I get some paper or something to give him for now?
Director: Sure. And Forky, where are you coming from?
Forky: Oh. Um. I guess I'm probably coming from my blacksmith shop.
Director: What was the trip like?
Forky: What was the trip like?
Director: Yeah. Just some basic backstory. Nothing too in-depth. Was it an easy trip? Was it a hard trip? Has it been raining? Did you maybe have to walk through a lot of mud on the way here? Did you see anybody you knew? If so, who was it and what were they wearing? What are their names and ages? What did they say to you? How do you feel about them? Do you like them? If you don't, do you still pretend to like them anyway? How long have they lived in the village with you? Did you make horseshoes for their horses? What kind of horses do they have? How many? Are they nice? Do you know people who can afford nice things? Can you afford nice things? Are you invited to their parties? Have you met the Queen?
Forky: Wow, I...um... I think my character...probably...keeps to himself and doesn't know anybody. At all. Except William.
Director: Great. Guys, just so you all know, these are important questions you need to be asking yourself. So you're a hermit.
Forky: Yyyyyyyyes. Yes, I am. A blacksmith and...a hermit.
Director: Can I see you play that?
Forky: Play "hermit"?
Director: Yes.
Forky: Okay.
Director: Okay, let's take it again.
Forky: Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest with me a sword of such beauty, even the very sword you requested of me to make.
(pause. Forky suddenly hops a little as he realizes he's not done with his line)
Forky: OH! Duh. Wouldst you care to try it out?
Actor Will: Certainly, gentle swordsmi--
Director: Hold please. Forky, that was really good, but I'm not sure how I feel about that long pause. It seemed to stop the action.
Forky: Oh! YEAH! I'm sorry, I was just trying to do it from memory and--pbbt--brain fart.
Director: What do you--? You mean that's how you want to do it for the show? Do you see the swordsmith as absent-minded?
Forky: No. I mean, I, meaning me, the actor, just forgot my line.
Director: Because if you want him to be absent-minded we could always--
Forky: No, I think it's fine. It's fine. It's fine. I just forgot my line and now I remember it. No problemo.
Director: Okay. Keep going then.
Actor Will: Certainly, gentle swordsmith. And right timely you are, for I sense my growing need of such a craftsman as thyself with each passing day.
Forky: Wherefore, my prince? What troubles haunt thy slumbers and, perchance, thy waking hours?
Actor Will: Tarry not! I promised thee a payment for the weapon and here 'tis, to the thruppence. (hands Forky a handful of paper-scraps)
Forky: But mine Prince! Thou must tell thy servant what befell Princess Yasriel!
Actor Will: Better to not speak of the fair Princess Yasriel. For I fear she is lost. Lost. LOST!
Director: Hold please. Forky, count the money.
Forky: Count the money.
Director: Yes. When someone gives you money, your first instinct is to count it.
Forky: Yeah, um. I don't know if that feels quite appropri--
Director: I mean, that's what I do. When somebody pays me. Don't you do that, stage manager?
Stage manager: Yes.
Director: So let's take it again, and this time, make sure to count the money when he gives it to you, then proceed.
Forky: Okay.
Director: You're all doing really great. Everybody ready? Annnnnd...go.
Forky: Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest with me a sword of such beauty, even the very sword you requested of me to make. Wouldst you care to--
Director: Hold. Forky, you're going directly to the wine cabinet.
Forky: Yeah, you told me to--
Director: I like what you're doing, but I'm really conflicted about this. I mean, did you know there was going to be wine there? Has your character been here before?
Forky: You told me to--
Director: I just feel like it looks like you're entering and immediately going to the wine cabinet because I told you to do it.
Forky: That's because--
Director: Let's try it again, only this time, make it look like I didn't tell you to go straight to the wine cabinet.
Forky: Okay. Good day Young William! Prepare thine eyes for I bringest with me a sword of such beauty, even the very sword you requested of me to make. Wouldst you care to try it out? (as if a thought occurred to him) Ah. Glass of wine.
Director: Hold please.
To be continued...
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
WhyTunes?
The Cachinnator informed me of something I could do with iTunes: download TV shows!
And it's super cheap! Only $2 an ep!
I've caught up on all the South Park episodes everyone's always talking about. I had so much fun, I even downloaded a bunch more! I mean, why not? It's so cheap!
So that's cool. I'm finally hip like everybody else.
I'm also $20 poorer. DANGIT! How the crap did THAT happen?!
I guess that's how corporations make money.
I discovered the wonders of Icy Hot. Life will never be the same. I smell like a walking peppermint and my neck and lower back are always burning, but in a way, I take some curious comfort in being smelly and in pain.
Tonight I have rehearsal for this play I'm doing. Since my part is so small, I'm only called in a couple nights a week, which I happen to LOVE. I'm just not that interested in theatre these days, I guess. The pressures of living in New York sort of eclipse the wonder and excitement of "tryin' out fer a play!" More on the show tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy the warm weather where you are. And the space. And your roomy apartment/house. And your bathroom that could easily fit 2-3 people in it. And the cheap groceries. And your car. And being able to see the sky...
And it's super cheap! Only $2 an ep!
I've caught up on all the South Park episodes everyone's always talking about. I had so much fun, I even downloaded a bunch more! I mean, why not? It's so cheap!
So that's cool. I'm finally hip like everybody else.
I'm also $20 poorer. DANGIT! How the crap did THAT happen?!
I guess that's how corporations make money.
I discovered the wonders of Icy Hot. Life will never be the same. I smell like a walking peppermint and my neck and lower back are always burning, but in a way, I take some curious comfort in being smelly and in pain.
Tonight I have rehearsal for this play I'm doing. Since my part is so small, I'm only called in a couple nights a week, which I happen to LOVE. I'm just not that interested in theatre these days, I guess. The pressures of living in New York sort of eclipse the wonder and excitement of "tryin' out fer a play!" More on the show tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy the warm weather where you are. And the space. And your roomy apartment/house. And your bathroom that could easily fit 2-3 people in it. And the cheap groceries. And your car. And being able to see the sky...
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Back to Work
This blog was always meant to be a place where I could regale you all with tales of my misadventures with various jobs--and serve as a means of killing time till the clock ticks down to 5:00pm. It's been a while since I've had a real job, but that shouldn't stop me from telling you about my fake jobs, now, should it?
"Temping" - Day Two
That's day two of 28. And Lawd, Lawd, Lawd...I don't know if I'm going to make it this time.
For all of you who think sitting around in the buff, the altogether, the 'casual Friday', the birthday suit is easy work, explain to me why there was a trickle of sweat running down my brow at the "office" this morning and why I'm about to apply some Icy Hot to my aching back and neck.
I was nervous about yesterday. Setting the pose. I remembered the last time. It was a three week gig with these folks. Now, understand, they're great people. Very friendly, very talented...you don't feel like you're sitting up there for a bunch of hacks. These people are artists--er--businessmen.
But by the end of the three weeks, I was having to resort to the old tried-and-true P.O.W. torture distraction techniques to keep from losing my mind. Sitting on a stool shouldn't be difficult. But dang. DANG! IT IS!
I knew whatever pose we went with, there was a chance it was going to turn into something very painful by the third week. I would insist upon something simple. Something that didn't involve me putting my bare foot on the crossbar of the stool or craning my neck up and to the right with my left shoulder tilted downward and my body facing counter clockwise.
Also, as an important side note, I have to say the cast of 300 2 had better watch out. If you thought my abs were hott in Midsummer, then...gaw! I punched up my routine in the past two weeks and...gaw! Even I'm shocked by the results. I'm almost embarassed by how hot my abs are.
What's that you're saying? Something about pride? Something about fall? Oh, why yes. I love autumn. The changing leaves... Thanksgiving... So cozy. Mmm.
They start to set the pose.
"Could you turn to the right?"
"More right."
"More right."
"More right."
"More--wait! That's perfect!"
42nd Floorers, they're painting...my back.
"Temping" - Day Two
That's day two of 28. And Lawd, Lawd, Lawd...I don't know if I'm going to make it this time.
For all of you who think sitting around in the buff, the altogether, the 'casual Friday', the birthday suit is easy work, explain to me why there was a trickle of sweat running down my brow at the "office" this morning and why I'm about to apply some Icy Hot to my aching back and neck.
I was nervous about yesterday. Setting the pose. I remembered the last time. It was a three week gig with these folks. Now, understand, they're great people. Very friendly, very talented...you don't feel like you're sitting up there for a bunch of hacks. These people are artists--er--businessmen.
But by the end of the three weeks, I was having to resort to the old tried-and-true P.O.W. torture distraction techniques to keep from losing my mind. Sitting on a stool shouldn't be difficult. But dang. DANG! IT IS!
I knew whatever pose we went with, there was a chance it was going to turn into something very painful by the third week. I would insist upon something simple. Something that didn't involve me putting my bare foot on the crossbar of the stool or craning my neck up and to the right with my left shoulder tilted downward and my body facing counter clockwise.
Also, as an important side note, I have to say the cast of 300 2 had better watch out. If you thought my abs were hott in Midsummer, then...gaw! I punched up my routine in the past two weeks and...gaw! Even I'm shocked by the results. I'm almost embarassed by how hot my abs are.
What's that you're saying? Something about pride? Something about fall? Oh, why yes. I love autumn. The changing leaves... Thanksgiving... So cozy. Mmm.
They start to set the pose.
"Could you turn to the right?"
"More right."
"More right."
"More right."
"More--wait! That's perfect!"
42nd Floorers, they're painting...my back.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Happy Easter!
An Easter Post--wait--Post
How Easter happens
Happy Easter to all my peeps. MARSHMALLOW peeps, that is.
Sorry I've been a little out of the loop lately. It's not because I don't have lots of things to talk about. It's just hard to keep up with all this Easter stuff going on. Mostly church. Church, church, church.
It's kind of like how you might have a Christmas where you wind up being in a community theatre production of 'A Christmas Carol' the same year they're doing a big television 'Christmas Carol' special. You read the book and then your mom wants to watch 'A Muppet Christmas Carol' because she cries when Robin dies. It's a 'Christmas Carol' Christmas.
It's also like how you might have a 'Rainy' President's Day or a 'Dinosaur' Independence Day or a 'Peaceful' Ramadan.
This Easter has been a 'Psalm 22' Easter.
That sounds strange, doesn't it?
What I mean to say is at the various Bible studies and at every other Church service, someone's reading Psalm 22. Maybe I wasn't paying attention in previous years, but it seems like we've been walloped with the Psalm of the Derelict this year. At least we have in New York. I don't know about where you guys are. It certainly wasn't in the forecast, although, all things considered, I guess it shouldn't be unexpected.
Seeing as how I'm attending an Anglo-Catholic church these days, I figured I'd go ahead and go all-out. That means I genuflect, make the sign of the cross a lot, think Mary is really, really great, and I fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday.
Wait. Fast?
Wait. Fast?
You mean, like, not eating?
I thought that was funny. Like, isn't there something in 2 Cacchinations about how you're not supposed to do that in these modern times because it was considered too sacrificial and inconvinient for modern Christians?
But when the Easter Rabbit says, "Hop!" I ask, "How high?"
Some notes on the Easter services...
Wednesday - Tenebrae Service - As the service goes on, the lights go out. This is a problem for a church so steeped in liturgy. When the lights are out--I mean completely out--you can't read the bulletin. I'd been eating a lot of baby carrots in preparation for the upcoming Good Friday fast so I could see okay, but the elderly couple in front of us gave up within the first fifteen minutes of the service. I mean, geeze.
Thursday - Maunday Thursday - This one made me cry. That's all I'm going to say about it.
Friday - Good Friday - The big one. I started the day by making myself a big bowl of nothing, then did my Bible study and watched the bonus features DVD in the 'Definitive Edition Passion of the Christ'. From 12 to 3 was the three hour devotion in which our token British priest gave seven sermons that would have made Jonathan Edwards feel positively ducky. Pause for a quick lunch of nothing, a nap, then it's back to church again at 5:30 for the evening liturgy. The choir boys run away at the end to symbolize the scattering of the disciples. I was almost moved, but all the boys had big smiles on their faces so it kind of took me out of the moment. Also, there were way more than twelve of them and they were wearing lacy gowns. Not very convincing, if you ax me. So yeah. Next year, let's get some old men. And some freakin' peanut butter. For real.
Saturday - The Easter Vigil/First Eucharist of Easter - The other big one. Also started at 5:30. You're supposed to have the halfway point at midnight so you can take the Eucharist on the actual Easter morning. Our church wimped out. They didn't ring the bells as we were leaving. We suspected that's because they didn't want St. Pat's to know we did ours early. Also, the alter boys need painters stilts. Poor kids had the world's most difficult time lighting those candles. It was totally stressful watching them struggle. Oooh. I can't even think about it without getting a little queasy. I mean, just think of their poor parents! I can only imagine. Most parents scream, "Steal home!" or "You've got the ball! Run!" I guess these parents would have to whisper, "Stand on your tip-toes!"
But all that's over now. Tomorrow morning I'll wake up to an Easter basket full of chocolate eggs and plastic grass and other Easter surprises. I'm really looking forward to that.
So a happy Easter to all and to all a good night! I'm going to bed. 8am service. You know. Avoid the crowds.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Hoorae for Tenebrae!
It's Wednesday of Holy Week! You all know what that means!
It's time for Tenebrae!
It's time for Tenebrae!
Before I moved here, I didn't have the foggiest idea what that word meant. But I do now. That's because I've gone from this...
To this.
So hoorae for Tenebrae! I'll take two!
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Maybe I'M the Crazy One!
Do I have a tracking device on me?
The crazy lady who thinks I'm Jesus comes into the Morebucks Coffee shop every morning at 10:30.
SO, when my roommate woke me up at 8:30 singing opera...
(a brief pause while you imagine me making a very displeased Kermit the frog sort of face)
...I decided, what the heck. I'll get up. Maybe if I stagger around the apartment with a scowl on my face and eyes at half-mast, ol' Roomie will realize that singing opera in the kitchen this early in the morning isn't very considerate. Considerate. Kind of like throwing a very loud party in our little apartment on Monday night that lasts till 2:00am and leaving the kitchen a dirty disaster area that I'll probably get to clean up, being the unemployed schmuck that I am.
Yeah. That happened last night.
So then I think, "Hey! There's some silver lining here! It's WELL before 10:30. I could go have a peaceful, quiet cup of coffee at Morebucks without worrying about Crazy Annie! Let's go! Nous allons!"
Seriously, y'all. She's crazy. Not only did she disrupt everyone's morning cup by shouting at me from across the café, "JESUS CHRIST, IS THAT YOU? JESUS CHRIST, IS THAT YOU? JESUS CHRIST, IS THAT YOU?" she's also been known to shout out,
"WHAT TIME IS IT? WHAT TIME IS IT? WHAT TIME IS IT? WHAT TIME IS IT?"
Someone pulled out their watch and said, "Ma'am, it's ten--"
"I WAS ONLY ASKING WHAT TIME IT WAS! SHUT UP! I WAS ONLY ASKING WHAT TIME IT WAS!"
"Ma'am, it's ten thirty."
"Ten thirty?"
"Yes."
Crazy Annie then goes completely silent and returns to her hot chocolate with extra sugar.
Hey. Sometimes you just want to know what time it is.
I was very excited about sitting calmly at Morebucks without having to worry about any unexpected outbursts. You have NO idea. I mean, I wasn't expecting it to be like relaxing by a babbling stream on a crisp fall afternoon, but still. It was gonna be great.
On the way, I walk past two rather raggedy looking folks who are muttering to themselves.
I get to the café thinking about how nice and quiet it will be. I enter. A pale, scraggly-haired woman is bent over a newspaper, muttering. A man with dirty pants and a glazed look in his eye stumbles into the shop. I order my half-caf and sit down to answer some emails on my Flakberry.
The men next to me are discussing the Jesus Family Tomb and how they're happy Christianity will finally cease to exist thanks to this finding.
I bristle.
That's when I hear an unmistakable voice behind me.
"You should send your children to the Hindus and the Buddhists and the Shintos and the Hare Krishnas. They surround you with love and take care of children."
No way.
I look at my watch. It's not even 10:00 yet. What. The. Crap?
Dirty Pants Bill mutters something to her. Something unintelligible in a voice that sounds like gravel being mixed.
"MEDITATE!" shouts Crazy Annie. "MEDITATE AND THE PAIN WILL GO AWAY!"
I sigh. I don't even need to turn around. Instead, I look out the window and there's a woman with patchy hair, a paranoid expression, and schmutz on her shirt muttering to herself.
I know there are crazy people in this world. I know there were crazy people in Texas. I don't know WHERE they were. I didn't see many. I don't remember meeting any. I guess they keep them hidden away or something so everything will appear to be nice and normal and comfortable.
Yeah, I know there are crazy people out there. But this? THIS is ridiculous. Not only am I dodging piles of poo and puddles of pee as I walk these New York thoroughfares, but the crazies are out in droves. I feel like I'm in some kind of time warp. Like...I've been whisked back to Hollywood's version of pre-Industrial Revolution where the crazy people are cRaZy and there's a LOT of poop in the streets. It starts to feels less like the sophisticated City of Dreams and more like Crazy Island.
I decide I've had enough of crazy people for one morning. I pick up my bag and proceed to Café Netto.
I sit down.
I forgot about why I stopped going to Café Netto.
But I remembered.
"DUU! I'm f*&%ing pissed at choo, DUDE, MAN!! You f9*^ing need to f*^%ing see a PSYCHIATRIST duude! I don't f*&ing KNOW what I'm f^*%ing gonna f#$%ing do wit' my f$#%^ing day. You're f@#%ing pissing me off! Hey, have you f#$%^ing been to Hot Asian Chicks dot com? It's f*&^ing f*&%^ f*&%^!"
That was my quiet, calm morning with a cup of coffee.
The crazy lady who thinks I'm Jesus comes into the Morebucks Coffee shop every morning at 10:30.
SO, when my roommate woke me up at 8:30 singing opera...
(a brief pause while you imagine me making a very displeased Kermit the frog sort of face)
...I decided, what the heck. I'll get up. Maybe if I stagger around the apartment with a scowl on my face and eyes at half-mast, ol' Roomie will realize that singing opera in the kitchen this early in the morning isn't very considerate. Considerate. Kind of like throwing a very loud party in our little apartment on Monday night that lasts till 2:00am and leaving the kitchen a dirty disaster area that I'll probably get to clean up, being the unemployed schmuck that I am.
Yeah. That happened last night.
So then I think, "Hey! There's some silver lining here! It's WELL before 10:30. I could go have a peaceful, quiet cup of coffee at Morebucks without worrying about Crazy Annie! Let's go! Nous allons!"
Seriously, y'all. She's crazy. Not only did she disrupt everyone's morning cup by shouting at me from across the café, "JESUS CHRIST, IS THAT YOU? JESUS CHRIST, IS THAT YOU? JESUS CHRIST, IS THAT YOU?" she's also been known to shout out,
"WHAT TIME IS IT? WHAT TIME IS IT? WHAT TIME IS IT? WHAT TIME IS IT?"
Someone pulled out their watch and said, "Ma'am, it's ten--"
"I WAS ONLY ASKING WHAT TIME IT WAS! SHUT UP! I WAS ONLY ASKING WHAT TIME IT WAS!"
"Ma'am, it's ten thirty."
"Ten thirty?"
"Yes."
Crazy Annie then goes completely silent and returns to her hot chocolate with extra sugar.
Hey. Sometimes you just want to know what time it is.
I was very excited about sitting calmly at Morebucks without having to worry about any unexpected outbursts. You have NO idea. I mean, I wasn't expecting it to be like relaxing by a babbling stream on a crisp fall afternoon, but still. It was gonna be great.
On the way, I walk past two rather raggedy looking folks who are muttering to themselves.
I get to the café thinking about how nice and quiet it will be. I enter. A pale, scraggly-haired woman is bent over a newspaper, muttering. A man with dirty pants and a glazed look in his eye stumbles into the shop. I order my half-caf and sit down to answer some emails on my Flakberry.
The men next to me are discussing the Jesus Family Tomb and how they're happy Christianity will finally cease to exist thanks to this finding.
I bristle.
That's when I hear an unmistakable voice behind me.
"You should send your children to the Hindus and the Buddhists and the Shintos and the Hare Krishnas. They surround you with love and take care of children."
No way.
I look at my watch. It's not even 10:00 yet. What. The. Crap?
Dirty Pants Bill mutters something to her. Something unintelligible in a voice that sounds like gravel being mixed.
"MEDITATE!" shouts Crazy Annie. "MEDITATE AND THE PAIN WILL GO AWAY!"
I sigh. I don't even need to turn around. Instead, I look out the window and there's a woman with patchy hair, a paranoid expression, and schmutz on her shirt muttering to herself.
I know there are crazy people in this world. I know there were crazy people in Texas. I don't know WHERE they were. I didn't see many. I don't remember meeting any. I guess they keep them hidden away or something so everything will appear to be nice and normal and comfortable.
Yeah, I know there are crazy people out there. But this? THIS is ridiculous. Not only am I dodging piles of poo and puddles of pee as I walk these New York thoroughfares, but the crazies are out in droves. I feel like I'm in some kind of time warp. Like...I've been whisked back to Hollywood's version of pre-Industrial Revolution where the crazy people are cRaZy and there's a LOT of poop in the streets. It starts to feels less like the sophisticated City of Dreams and more like Crazy Island.
I decide I've had enough of crazy people for one morning. I pick up my bag and proceed to Café Netto.
I sit down.
I forgot about why I stopped going to Café Netto.
But I remembered.
"DUU! I'm f*&%ing pissed at choo, DUDE, MAN!! You f9*^ing need to f*^%ing see a PSYCHIATRIST duude! I don't f*&ing KNOW what I'm f^*%ing gonna f#$%ing do wit' my f$#%^ing day. You're f@#%ing pissing me off! Hey, have you f#$%^ing been to Hot Asian Chicks dot com? It's f*&^ing f*&%^ f*&%^!"
That was my quiet, calm morning with a cup of coffee.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)