Hell Hath No Fury

Day 3

I woke up this morning, thinking to myself, "I am still here?" I had fittings at 11 AM. J had to drive with LD to pick up props (instead of the enemy, which is good), which everyone kept saying "is only 1 1/2 away.." and I kept saying, "it's got to be at least 2 hours..." and lo, it was 2 1/2 hours in the truck.

They got to the other theater to pick up some props that were supposed to be brought from there to the shop building the show in October...hmmmm...anyway, through 3 feet of snow, they lugged telephone poles, a barca lounger, a sofa, and various lawn ornaments....not to mention that every time they had to get from the theater to the Penske, they had to hike over not only the snow but a pidgeon barbeque that a Racoon had. The raccoon had torn the pidgen down to the smallest possible parts; molted feathers, blood, and a sad, singluar foot with a bone sticking out...but it didn't have any brothers. Pidgeon guts spewn across the parking lot....yet, they had to, every 7 minutes or so...climb over the poor foot with the singluar feather blowing in the wind.

Everything, though seemed fine. They lugged heavy shit out of the second floor of said Theater, which sucked....they got to Friendly's at 3 and were ornry. Despite the crap. Then...the phone rang. What LD learned, in that fateful phone call, was that despite the fact that the understanding was that the rental would be put through today at noon...Mallet, aka fuckky mc fuckkerson, decided he wanted to wait for LD to get BACK to the office...which he DAMN well knew wasn't going to be until at least 5 PM, when the shops CONVENIENTLY close.

Well, they wouldn't get there unless they clicked their heels or strapped a rocket pack to the back of the penske...so needless to say, we still don't have lights...and supposedly the order will go through tomorrow, at a much more expensive shop because it IS open on a Saturday. And LD's response to all this was merely "I am not going to lie to you...in Big Boy theatre, the lighting designer gives you equipment lists and just shows up." Boy, I wish I was that calm....

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...I have 6 fittings with all the actors watching the other actors get in their costumes...there is NOTHING like doing a semi-private fitting, and then, I learn, at 4 PM, that I DON'T HAVE ANYONE TO DO ALTERATIONS AFTER TODAY. And, that they haven't finished 1/3 of the show. I go to wal-mart, to purchase the kit for the wardrobe supervisor/swing/asm who has never done it before (though, C is very willing and wonderful.) SO I call fucking Mallet myself and he only asks me whose fault it is. I don't give a fucking shit, and we go back and forth, and finally, he decides that he can't help me and answers a million other questions other than the one I asked.

So, with $500 worth of shit in my car, I drive from the theater (after loading the costume bins myself into the truck down from the 2nd floor with no help) to the warehouse where we set up and are rehearsing for the next 3 days. It was "an easy drive" they said. An easy drive, yes, until you get to the scary, dark and murder-zone industrial park and can't find the warehouse because there is no part of the directions that say to the right, through a scary narrow driveway and in the back in scary land.

D dropped my shit off BEHIND the set and expected me to move it around the rooms into the dressing rooms. Fortunately, M, the SOUND guy, helped me drag the boxes. I barely cleared the set because he stopped right where it was hard to get through. THey'd brought a sewing maching with the wrong bobbin, and set me up an ironing board against a wall with no outlets and no iron at all. I hadn't eaten for most of the day, and was starving but had to unload all the costumes myself.

J called a producer and said, "Jen's gonna quit, and Mallet. is a big liar." Producer, I think, thinks Mallet is just an idiot and doesn't know he's lying, but actively lies to cover his ass because all he cares about is his coming out on top looking good. Which we all know he's a liar at this Cultish Community Theater...

After having a complete meltdown (including tears) when J and LD got back from being far away, saying I was going to quit, another producer, came through and basically said to do what I needed. We had a futile conversation with Mallet who wanted to blame the crew and myself for the costumes not being done (I didn't KNOW we needed the costumes ready for first tech...when did you say that..."on every conference call for the past 10 weeks...) He wanted to blame the poor woman on parole helping us with sewing, and the amazing guy who is also their SM and an actor in one of their shows...whose fault it is not...for the clothes not being done. Mallet is a fucknut. A douchebag. Fuckky McFuckerson.

So now, we sit, in our apartment, drinking (and I blogging) bitching about this whole experience...awaiting the snowstorm coming our way...(Sunday...12-36 inches...) that will, again, halt our progress. And I VOW, again, that J and I ARE LEAVING on the 19th, in the evening...I don't care HOW LATE because, because, because, WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF THIS PLACE.