I woke up that Saturday morning feeling like crap. Not feeling like P.Diddy like one is SUPPOSED to on a Saturday, but with the hanging dread that I have been feeling every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday morning for the past month.
I had rehearsal today.
In most cases, I'm totally okay with waking up early to practice dance routines and run lines and what have you. And about half of the time I enjoy it! But this time it wasn't all good and dandy. Partially because we were putting on 'Starmites,' which is the worst show on the face of the planet. Also, most of the casting was TERRIBLY chosen for the most part. My friend Phineas was cast as Space Punk, a stroke of casting genius, and I was cast as Eleanor. I fail to see the genius there.
As I walked out the door in my usual hipster garb, I saw my friend Nora waiting outside in a sketchy-looking white van. Most people see a van like that and immediately assume that the driver is an unshaven pedophile and that it contains five or so small children and shit tons of used condoms. However, Nora was my best friend and the inside of her car was decked out with Skillet posters and old records and stuff like that. Best ride ever.
Since I was a mere fifteen year-old, I couldn't drive to rehearsal in the mornihgs. Thankfully, Nora was seventeen and could drive me there. She was a techie too, which was pretty damn convenient. I dragged my feet theatrically as I approached the automobile, and as I opened the passenger side door she greeted me with a skeptical look.
"What's with the swagger, Lindy? Did you hurt yourself brushing your teeth?" said Nora, in her usual sarcastic way.
"I just really don't want to go to rehearsal today. Mrs. Cuff is just going to make racist jokes and dote on Vida the whole time, like she does every day. Can't we just skip?" I responded hopefully. Given the circumstances, Nora might have agreed with me. But...
"Not again, sweetheart. You've already skipped, what, five rehearsals so far? If you want Cuff to cast you again you won't miss another one. Now hop in." I hated that she was so right. I sat down, buckled up, and we drove off.
Cuffster wasn't there when we walked into the auditorium, so Nora and I just sat and talked to Phineas. Phineas was named after the main character in 'A Separate Peace,' which was quite fitting since he was about as gay as Neil Patrick Harris in a rainbow t-shirt sipping a moccachino in a low-key NYC cafe. He hated his name with a passion.
As we chatted casually about the weather and the importance of brussels sprouts in one's diet, Mrs. Cuff walked in with Lee. Mrs. Jane Cuff was a frumpy woman, mid-fifties, whose pleasant demeanor made good first impressions on most people- until she directed plays she was in. When she's in director mode, she's a no-nonsense drill seargeant with the sense of humor of a small brick. The only exception of this scary-as-fuck persona was her protege, Vida Burkowitz. Vida was the overachiever of the junior class, who would be a pretty great person were it not for the fact that the only way she could get more neurotic was if someone shoved a menorah up her ass.. Maybe I wouldn't be so harsh if she hadn't become my consistent frenemy for the past year.
TO BE CONTINIUED. TOO TIRED TO WRITE MORE.
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