August 26 - Hockey Wrap Day 3 + Doorman

"This (wrap it) never fuckin' ends"
- Glenn Danzig, "American Nightmare"

Today we moved from our 3-room office to a tiny office measuring 3' x 3'.
Just Joanie, Sven and I.
And a mountain of time cards and popcorn.
I returned a helmet to Sports Authority and bubble wrap to Home Depot in record time.
I got coffee.
Then I spent what seemed like hours trying to purchase a hockey jersey online.
You see, Cody the director wanted a vintage Flyers sweater customized with a douchey nickname on the back.
Or maybe it was just a regular name on the back, but the gesture was douchey.
It's hard to remember specifics when doucheyness runs constant.

Like time-lapse photography, I watched as a small, three person operation in a rented office gradually ballooned to 200 moving, sliding bodies in an ice arena, then shrunk quickly back to three people in a rented office closet. It seemed like a minute and it seemed like a month.
A minth? A monthute?

By 6pm the stack of time cards had reduced from a mountain to a mound.
A slain bag of popcorn leaked its guts onto the cluttered desk.
Joanie asked if I could work tomorrow.
I would have liked to, but I promised Sven I'd PA for him on a shoot tomorrow.
The shoot didn't pay, but was a chance to work under an influential producer.
My name was already listed on the call sheet.
I could have used another couple hundred bucks.

But first I had to man the door at the bar.
And write:

So tired I'm (sic) almost walked off in the first minute. Kim got slammed at the bar + shouted for me to check some older folks IDs. I was still holding my tupperware dinner + personal affects- the people gave me attitude.
"You already checked my ID."
"No, I didn't - I just got here - you're the first person I've checked."
The woman wasn't having it.
"She already checked us."
"Fine. I don't give a shit" + I walked away.
I've just let 5 old people blow past me w/o checking IDs. I'm exhausted.
Let's recap the last few + few days.

Sun - 7am - 9pm - driving & staying in Rockford
Mon - 4:30am - 930pm - shooting in Rockford
Tue - 8am - 7pm - driving back to Chicago - driving box truck - other shit
Wed - 10am - 8pm - wrapping up
Thu - 930am - 7pm - wrapping up
TOMORROW - 630am - pro Bono shoot - 6pm
7pm - Boaz wedding music rehearsal




I dont like this job tonight.
I dont like douchey guys patting my back hard + yelling "YOU NEED TO GO HOME" -
because he's right.
I dont like the same aggro-testoterone (sic) men hurling low-register barks at their aging girlfriends dancing authentically 80's to Whitney Houston exercise pop.

An old messenger friend w/ a tight memory - Ian - praised my old messenger show - + wanted to see it again - wanted me to do something more with it. He's right, too.

A guy just accused me of being drunk. No.
I'm just boring + tired.
Wow. I only killed nine minutes.
Make this evening end.


Sometimes people just stare at you. The glassy gaze of a career drunk.
Uh oh. Sweet Caroline - Let's see if they do that - - - - ughhhh
they did that "so good so good" thing.
That might be one of my least favorite phenomena in human behavior. Worse than yelling out "Freebird" in my opinion.
These dickheads are completely butchering Sweet Caroline. Fuck. What assholes. When did this bar become shitty?
Now they're screaming Happy Birthday at a stranger.

They were drunk white idiots patronizing a 21 year old brown kid. Treating him like a meal they heard about. I guess I should've screamed happy birthday at him, too, when I checked his ID. But I don't check ID's all that well, and didn't even notice it was his birthday. Just that he was born when I was in high school.

In a few short hours I would be working again some more.

Verdict: Loss

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