cause i feel like doing a mini rant...
yo... i really love how people think they can insult a person's intelligence and then make a buck.
the other day, some asshole had the nerve to call me on some... no, he's not an asshole at the beginning of the story.
i get a call about something i must have submitted my info for. the guy is telling me they saw my info and liked it enough to call me in for an audition. bla bla. he is with a production company. they are working with a choreographer who is casting for a project they are producing. more bla bla blas. the time of the audition is yaddee yah. the class will be 10 dollars. he tried to give me more bla blas, but i cut his ass off.
me: 'so is this a class or an audition?'
him: 'the choreographer is selecting dancers from this particular class.'
me: 'so i'm paying you to audition for your project'
him: '-not a good enough response and too many 'uh's-'
me: 'i'm not interested.'
*man on other end gets the receiver bang*
now if he could have at least said who this choreographer is, i might have thought oh i know this person is legit. but they were on some secret shit. and what the hell do i look like dropping any amount to go and audition for some shit. he tried to run some serious serious game on my ass.
if i g et one more person saying some shit about exposure that can't be accounted for i swear i will humor them by taking their info and i'll forward that shit to the better business bureau.
...
other than that. life is good.
i spoke to f- last night and cleared the air between us. cause the shit was smelling pretty bad. his sincerity surprises me. i get the amazing and the hard to hear. lol, its like that african tactlessness that i can only be fond of when i am not the subject of its truth. so i think he realized that i was about to be out for good and that he was going to lose me as he said. hmmn... men are funny. i think this is like everybody's story when things are souring... but i'm around. i can't pretend like i don't care for him...
i just got paid, so why wouldn't i smile... the trade in for freedom. gotta love corporate america
the other day, some asshole had the nerve to call me on some... no, he's not an asshole at the beginning of the story.
i get a call about something i must have submitted my info for. the guy is telling me they saw my info and liked it enough to call me in for an audition. bla bla. he is with a production company. they are working with a choreographer who is casting for a project they are producing. more bla bla blas. the time of the audition is yaddee yah. the class will be 10 dollars. he tried to give me more bla blas, but i cut his ass off.
me: 'so is this a class or an audition?'
him: 'the choreographer is selecting dancers from this particular class.'
me: 'so i'm paying you to audition for your project'
him: '-not a good enough response and too many 'uh's-'
me: 'i'm not interested.'
*man on other end gets the receiver bang*
now if he could have at least said who this choreographer is, i might have thought oh i know this person is legit. but they were on some secret shit. and what the hell do i look like dropping any amount to go and audition for some shit. he tried to run some serious serious game on my ass.
if i g et one more person saying some shit about exposure that can't be accounted for i swear i will humor them by taking their info and i'll forward that shit to the better business bureau.
...
other than that. life is good.
i spoke to f- last night and cleared the air between us. cause the shit was smelling pretty bad. his sincerity surprises me. i get the amazing and the hard to hear. lol, its like that african tactlessness that i can only be fond of when i am not the subject of its truth. so i think he realized that i was about to be out for good and that he was going to lose me as he said. hmmn... men are funny. i think this is like everybody's story when things are souring... but i'm around. i can't pretend like i don't care for him...
i just got paid, so why wouldn't i smile... the trade in for freedom. gotta love corporate america