of Zombies and Fanny Packs
It was another amusing week of bus rides, rehearsals and work place happenings. I hope I’m not giving off the impression that there’s always something interesting happening in my every day life, because there aren’t…BUT, there is always something worth writing about every week.
Rehearsals are going well, we’re fast approaching opening night and I’m anxious to expose the Chulla Chaqui to unsuspecting audience members! And no, that’s not an innuendo for something else. The other characters are coming along well too; I really enjoy watching everyone develop their characters.
A WEEK IN PUBLIC TRANSPORATION
I broke the string that attaches to the “STOP REQUESTED” device. Whoops, I guess I don’t know my own strength?
Heh, this one was amusing–imagine this: tall, grizzly looking, hat wearing-fanny packing-steel toeing shoeing Caucasian male steps onto the bus and makes his way to the seat directly in front of me. He starts chatting it up to this Asian fella opposite of him. Wow, he starts going on about how plastic comes from oil, and oil is from Iraq! He then proceeds to tell the Asian fella that there are little black boxes inside the bus that record everyone’s stops and that it helps the government enlist younger people into the Army.
(#2 cont.) By this time, Mr. Asian guy is sweating bullets and looking for any way to escape this one-sided conversation. (I’m watching this as it unfolds) A few stops later, another “interesting” character hops on the bus and IMMEDIATELY starts to conversate with Mr. Fanny Packing Fella. Imagine, come on try, two cars heading in the same direction on a collision course…except, instead of hitting each other, they both hit brick walls only yards apart. That’s how it felt. Both of them “chitchatyammered” it up, yet their conversations had nothing to do with each other! I glance over at Mr. Asian Fella and there’s this look of relief on his face for the brief reprieve. Soon, Mr. Fanny Pack and Other fella were out of the bus, leaving Mr. Asian Fella to digest the ear-raping he just received.
Now THAT was worth the bus ride. Who needs a car when you can ride the bus and come home with pages worth of interesting, vibrant characters?