Today I got crabby with my dispatcher.
"Where are you standying by?"
Lake Shore Drive.
"Lake Shore Jive?" he joked.
"Laaaake Shoooore Driiiiive," I assholed.
He told me not to talk to him like that.
This afternoon I missed a put-in rehearsal for Rush.
I was supposed to be at the rehearsal.
I was not. It seems I had forgotten all about it.
This evening on the bike ride to Second City, the cab next to me slowly merged toward the parked cars, threatening to crush me. I pounded on his windows to let him know a human was there.
He told me not to touch his car.
I told him not to crush me and I wouldn't touch his car.
We were racing now.
A woman ahead opened her door. I yelled the word "fuck" and narrowly squeezed between the speeding cab and the stupid fucking woman. Angrily, I knocked the cab's passenger mirror out of place.
The cab driver said "Hey!"
I said, "What?"
I've been having this exchange with oblivious drivers for over ten years now. I wish I would have outgrown it by now. But I haven't. I just keep banging on cars when they gets too close, and they yell at me for touching their cars.
The cab driver asked me if I was alright.
This was new.
I didn't know how to answer so I didn't.
Then he gave me some fortune cookie advice about how life is more important than this.
I returned his mirror to its original place.
A group of about twenty Young Republicans came to see Rush Limbaugh! The Musical. The all white, mostly male gathering sat stone-faced with their arms crossed against their ample bellies. The contempt they had for our show began to bum me out a bit. It seemed they were choosing to not enjoy the show.
But then again, if I went to one of those Blue Collar tours or Larry the Cable Guy shows, I think I too would be choosing to think it sucks, and be in a bad mood about it.
Isn't that what I do all day anyway?