22.07.2002
ah. lovely, lazy drive back. and the morning was a wonderful adventure, as well. *satisfied grin* no, that's all you get. no details. ;)the drive wasn't bad; much like last night, all the traffic was headed in the other direction. as i drove along, sipping coffee and switching stations, i somehow got to thinking about winge moments. well, not somehow. there was a moment last night that's still bugging me. for some reason, i thought i'd picked up a logo sweatshirt of his. so i unfolded it as we were walking to see what the logo was. 'what is this?' 'it's a sweater. i thought i might be cold.' *insert other foot in mouth*
ever notice how those moments stick with you for way too long? and you replay them over and over again in your head. and then you start having the conversation you wish you'd had. you rewrite the line, or give the snappy response, or otherwise get yourself out of that painful little corner you've squished yourself into.
you start talking to yourself as you walk down the street, trying to prove you're not a goof. you look in the bathroom mirror in the morning, and say out loud 'no, really! i meant ...' and it never changes the whinge. that cringey feeling of having walked onstage with your fly open or your hem caught in your underwear and not knowing is still there.
worst whinge moment ever happened while i was working at the theatre. it's a small little space, and i really liked the act (Reduced Shakespeare Company). i happened to be house managing that night. cameras aren't allowed; these people make their living from their face, and taking pictures deprives them of some part of their income. plus, they really should be able to control how people see them, at least while working. plus, it's just plain rude to take pictures.
someone in the very small theatre was taking pictures. repeatedly. it got bad enough that one of the actors was using his prop umbrella to fend off the flash. being the house manager, i had to do something to stop the photographer.
did i do the bright thing? did i call up to the booth, which looks down on the seats, to ask where the person was? nooooooooo. i walked down the aisle to see if i could catch them. the floors are wooden. i had on heels. i was loud.
The.
Play.
Stopped.
did i mention it was a small space? and the stage lights pretty much lit up the audience? so everyone could see me?
i was mortified. still am. clearly, a lack of common sense moment. and i still cringe every time i think of that moment.
there have been other moments that have since become funny. freshman year, i was seeing two guys. Scott came by my room, i introduced him to my roommate, and we went and did something (i've long since forgotten what). got back to my room, Bill came by, i introduced him to my roommate, and we started to head out. as i close my door, Bill turned to me and said 'who's Scott?'. oh, yeah, baby. i introduced him by the wrong name. i never got along all that well with my roommate, but still appreciate the fact that she hadn't batted an eye.
that one's just plain funny now. but the Moment The Play Stopped... *geagh* still comes back to haunt me.