thediastema's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Closing Weekend '01, Part I CLOSING WEEKEND 2001, part I Dear Master, Friday was SHENANIGAN day. That's all the holiday info pertinent to this installment. I woke, uncharacteristically, before noon. I cashed my latest paycheque (you knew there had to be an ulterior motive!) and fed Hamilton on some of what didn't go into chequing thereafter. Then I headed up to VT's place, where I met up with Accompanist and we yakked in the living room for half an hour before figuring VT wasn't going to show up. Hope she's okay. I got to work before call time, as usual, relieved I wouldn't have to usher tonight. Relieved Betty and Ginger were in charge. Relieved the season was almost over? No. It was Tasha's last night with us. She's off on a ten-day jaunt to London now. We snivelled and hugged but didn't exchange contact info. We're realistic. It may also have been Four's last night. We interacted more than usual, less than I'd have liked. While I nursed an iced coffee, he, Tasha, Ginger (now engaged to marry her sweetie in January '02!) and I bantered through the Will-Call Window. We also found ourselves traversing the south aisle of the ground level at the same time and exchanged pleasantries: "Hey, kiddo." I couldn't have appeared more dull and uninterested for someone I'd not pictured naked. I was proud of myself. And ashamed. "Hi. How're you doing?" "Goot, goot. How've you been?" "Huh?" And so forth, stopping long before the part where we would have gotten to "I'll miss you. I know! How's about let's exchange some fluids!" I harboured no illusions that things would have progressed more favourably by now. Yeah, give you a break, I know. Betty and I dashed out to buy snacks for the pot-luck mini-shindig with whatever Cage People are working tomorrow night. (The only one I've been told is Holly. Hope springs infernal.) Betty is reminding me all the time these days that life doesn't have to end with her resignation from the theatre, and "we'll still hang." Still... ~~ I'm going back. I will go. Even if all my favourites leave, I will go. Ginger will be there. Any boss with whom you can rock out to the soundtrack of Buena Vista Social Club is too good to be passed up. Saturday, today, we close. I'm there from noonish to before-midnightish. PROGNOSIS: the season ends not with a bang (like last season) but with the white acoustic deficit that is the absence of my favourite inaudible footsteps. Yup. ~ETK 05:00 - 26 May, 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||