Postcards from Hell

Below is word for word (except for name changes to protect the innocent) an email I received from P today about the show from hell. Seriously, folks it just DOES NOT STOP!!!!

"Hey Ladies,

Heh heh, i thought i would share some of the amazing things that have been happening with life around here.

So the portable dimmers that were sent with me on tour decided to shit out on me. Go figure when you send something out that's older than the ME. After many phone calls, one of which the fucker of all fuckers tried to explain to me that they were workhorses that they never have problems with and that was why the sent them out with me, we were told they would be repaired. Get them to the town they are to be fixed in and the shop then refuses to fix them.

After resigning myself to the fate that i would never get these again, we were cut from the tour because a venue cancelled on us. So while i'm at home spending wonderful happy time with my girl I get the phone call. "P, there's an emergency, you need to call this venue. They don't have enough dimmers and the stage is 18 feet deep and 27 feet wide." So first call i make is to the GM, saying, "Look, i told you so, i need new dimmers, fix it." After many conversations with the winner of the fuckhead of the year award, it was decided to buy me the cheapest alternative to what i had offered as a good solution. Oh well, at least they work and are small and don't weigh 50 pounds.

Today i received word that i'm to inventory everything in the show, set pieces, tools, lighting gear and send it to the producer because of a "dispute" with Mr. Fucker McGee. That smells fishy.

Oh yeah, and 20 minutes into show i get a phone call from LD and he has apparently not been paid for reimbursement things from dec and january and is now threatening to pull the show. He just wanted to know where loyalties lie. Hmmmm. . . i wonder?

Those are the words from hell."

Thanks be to God. That I'm not there.