affectation.log

Earlier today an email was sent out to the crew of The Rivals that there'd be no cast party, as there was no place to have it.  Well, shit.  So I decided to kick my weekend off and made myself a nice, big Pepsi-and-Pucker to take to the play.

So I'm sitting at the play, running the sound.  I clearly made the mix too weak, as I'm not feeling a damned thing.  Ah, well.  I'd told Zip what was in the bottle when I got there, 'cause I knew he wouldn't care.  But during the play he makes mention of it casually to Kelly, something like, "You should have some of EGo's water."

Kelly, knowing me somewhat, deduces the contents.  Not exactly what it is, but just that it's alcoholic.  And for the rest of the play, she seems pretty quiet, not shaking her head or laughing at the ClearCom banter.

As soon as curtain call's done, she turns to me and goes, "Can I talk to you?" and walks off Techland immediately.  All right, I imagine I'm getting some kind of talking-to.  She goes up to Josie [the producer] and essentially reports me.  I try to lie my way out of it, but I'm a horrible liar.  And Josie's bound by club rules to fire me from the production.  So yeah, I'm fired.

I was clearly not drunk, and didn't miss my cues.  Well, technically, my first cue was late because I hit the "stop" button on the CD player instead of "pause".  They're identically shaped and one's above the other.  But that was at the beginning of the play, when the bottle hadn't been cracked yet.

Oh, well.  Josie's [oddly] not mad at me.  [Odd because she's already mad at most of the crew, including Kelly.  Maybe that's it.]  But she had to fire me, and I don't care.  Actually, most of the others I talked to just didn't care about me drinking.  But I am a bit mad at Kelly, and, I suppose, her boyfriend Paul [not my roommate], both of whom are way too uptight about drinking.  I've projected in much worse shape, and that involves operating close to motors.  I'm not going to injure people with a sound board.  Loosen the fuck up.

To me, the biggest tragedy is that I wasn't drunk.  I mean, if I'm fired, I want it to be over some flagrant violation, not for something shitty like this.  Jordan, my ex-big brother from Crow, was there after the show tonight.  When I told him the story, he yelled "All right!" and high-fived me.  I was certainly taught by the best.

Someone's supposed to fill in for me for the last night, but they didn't tell me who.  So in theory I have to tell this person what to do.  Eh.  I'm definitely going to the play tomorrow night.  I didn't join the crew just to miss out on the only fuckin' cast party.  And since I have no official duties this time, I'll make myself a much stronger mix with which to game.


Lesley's still ridiculously hot.


I came home after spending some time at the Sole with some theater people to the apartment, where there were more people drinking, including Ben "Fiveball" Lucas.  At some point, Fiveball and I go out for a smoke.  I'm out, and I figure it's time to buy another pack, so we walk down to the convenience store to get some.

On our way back to my apartment, we encounter this black guy.  At first, he's walking behind us.  We cross the street.  He follows.  I'm kind of freaked out, 'cause I'm scared of getting jumped.  I do feel somewhat safer, as Fiveball's a relatively large guy.

The guy seems in somewhat of a hurry, so I step aside so he can pass by us on the sidewalk.  He says not to mind him, passes us, and slows down so he's keeping pace in front of us.  Then the fun begins.


Around here I'm reassessing him as either a drug dealer or a pimp.


He asks us, "What do you like?"  Fiveball says that he doesn't like blondes, that he does like redheaded girls, and that others are pretty much equal.  I say stupidity is a major turn-off, to which Fiveball agrees.


I'm already consciously avoiding dark side streets on the way back to the apartment, because I definitely don't want to be somewhere dark with this guy.  So we're at the corner of Highland and Park, where Price Chopper is.  I push Fiveball into the parking lot of Chopper, both because it cuts time and because it's brightly lit.  The guy's walking in front of us, so he doesn't notice us turn for a while.  He follows us.


When I look back he's not following us.

In four years, this has got to be the most fucked up thing that's ever happened to me on the streets of Worcester.

I didn't notice it before, but the Google toolbar's mocking me.  Like the site, it must be programmed to detect the computer's clock settings and alter its appearance on holidays.  It's covered in hearts now.  Damned programmers.

Anyway, it's been a long night.  I'm going to sleep.