You know what got better tonight? THE MOTHER FUCKING MARCH, THAT'S WHAT.
It was awesome. We've had 15 marchers and there were enough that the drummer made it outside and there were still people coming through the doorway. There were people of all sizes, including children. They shuffled along, crossing the work space and the home space without looking up in these looming hats. Our drummer lead them, head up, cigarette between his teeth, grinning. Creepy as FUCK.
I loved it.
But that's me, you know? I love the get-in-your-face kind of stuff. I love the shit that makes you grab the person next you without even realize you're grabbing them. And I love that I'm a part of making that experience for someone.
Tonight, my director got an email from someone who lives near the theater. They said:
"I would kindly like to ask that you stop the snare drumming. It hardly
seems necessary to have drumming run the length of the block or to occur
outside the confines of your studio. I'm not trying to be a crotchety
grump but it is seriously unpleasant."
Sam's response?
"I'll explain and offer her comps. And then she'll just have to deal."
I fucking love my job. And THAT ladies and gentlemen, is it getting better.
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