Thursday, April 22, 2010

The Circuit

My favorite time of the week is shaping up to be this hour on Thursdays when Jarrah's at acting class and I am not expected to do anything but sit here at The Living Room and blog, drink coffee and eat naughty sweets. It's less delightful when I have to drive home in rush hour traffic and come back two hours later for rehearsal, but oh well.

I am clearly not a stage mother, since just now one of the other girls' dads told me that his daughter was sick today but he just showed up to get her instructions or whatever. He said to Jarrah, "Practicing your songs?" and Jarrah stared at him blankly while I mused, "Ohhhh, that's what that CD from last week was for." Oops.

So, what's new? My friends Mike and Laura are in town from DC, and I'm getting to meet their daughter Noelle, already 3, for the first time. Monday we went to the zoo, and yesterday the Aquarium. I am enjoying a little touristy time, the likes of which I haven't experienced since Jarrah was a toddler--there were a couple of years there when I felt like a San Diego tourism ambassador. I had a bit of a humiliating moment at the Aquarium, when I politely inquired at the Membership office if I could use some guest passes we have that are expired. My reasoning was that we are still members, so what difference does it make when we use them? Of course I didn't say that. I just smiled and asked if we could use them, figuring what's it to them? If I ask, I shall receive, is what I figured.

When the membership lady said no, I probably would have just said "Thanks anyway!" and left, but she clucked her tongue and shook her head and said "Oh no, those expire." I started to explain that yes, I knew that, and she said "They have an expiration date right on them, that says when they expire." Again, I started to say YES, I REALIZE THAT but she continued "And after that date has passed, those passes are expired."

Something snapped in my brain, though I'm not proud of it. I fixed her with a look and said in a low voice (which was probably scary, because it's no doubt just like my mom's not-yelling-scary-voice and believe me when I tell you, that is damn scary):

"Please stop telling me they expire. I am aware they expire. That's why I'm here."

The next thing that happened confused me, because if I had been her, I might have said "Have a nice day" and walked away. Instead, she said, "Can I see them?" I showed her. "Do you have guests with you today?"

"I do," I said.

"How many?"

"Two adults and one child."

"And they're here now?" Just then my phone made the texty noise, and I glanced to see if it was from Mike. It was. The message said: "Passped." I tried to interpret while the lady was talking. Finally, I realized she had said "Bring them in here when they arrive."

Mike and Laura are sweet people. As I put it, "Laura is from the midwest, and Mike is Mike." They were eager not to be involved in any fisticuffs I'd inadvertently roped them into. But now I felt honor-bound to return with them to the office. And when we got there, the membership lady stamped their hands with a free admission. I watched this happening with dismay, and finally mustered the gumption to say "I'm sorry I got mad."

"That's okay," she said, but she didn't look at me, and I could tell it wasn't.

So the question is, why'd she do it? It was baffling to me, and made me feel guilty. Laura said maybe she just didn't want me going postal in her office. David said once she realized I wasn't just angling for free stuff but had actual visitors in my possession, she wanted to make a member happy. What do you think, Readers? As for me, I secretly suspect she just wanted to make me feel guilty. Which I did. For hours.

In other news, I am haggard with nightly rehearsals. Last night I was on for almost two hours without a break and almost lost my voice. I have new blocking that I don't like because I'm supposed to be writing in a notebook for a big chunk of the scene. Feels so weird to me, but the director thinks it looks hilarious. Next week will be Hell Week, when I am backstage at the theater SEVEN NIGHTS IN A ROW. That is really hard because for the first four, there's pretty much no one watching, and hence, no one laughing. At least I only have one costume change this time, and no wigs. That I know of. Stay tuned.


Stephanie said...

Some people just require the not yelling scary mommy voice to snap them out of the hypnosis of hearing their own voice. She really left you no choice.

Does the play open next Friday?

Sam said...

Yes! We open Friday the 30th! Come on down! Preview on the 29th.

You are sweet to say I had no choice. :) You are sweet and I am lucky. :) (To know you, that is.)

Jennifer said...

Wow! I'm impressed with your power. I don't seem to be able to convince people to do things like that for me even when I use the scary voice. I think she may have been a little scared of you. But, maybe she really did want to make you feel bad too. But, the good thing is you got what you wanted! Teach me your ways oh wise one!

By the are special! I've been reading your blog longer than anyone else I still read. I deleted lots from my reader because I can't keep up and I just wanted to stop reading about all these pregnant ladies. ha! I could never delete you though!

The Wades said...

Her fault for being redundant and annoying and redundant. And annoying! I find it amusing you snapped. Sitting here laughing about it. I mean, who says the same obvious thing that many times? Really redundant.

How annoying!

Fun times.

Bet you want to slap me silly now, huh? :)

Hope the zoo was fun.