(no subject)
I really need to go to the city centre right now to buy a new pair of show blacks, but felt that yesterday required an update. Spent Wednesday night after work helping Liv finish her 5 year old degree, and gave Henry a bit of a run at the same time. It's nice that I feel I can actually drive and park him anywhere now his battery's charged again without worrying if he'll start again! Anyway, after being refused entry into the IC by some very rude staff (I give them... ooooh, purely monetarywise about 8 grand probably, including the voluntary hours god knows how much, and they can't even let me in to help Liv! Pah!) and then nearly the Library when a nice porter intervened, so ended up getting to bed around 4. Then got up at 7 to go to the Octagon.
It was superficially a lovely day. Crew were all very friendly and took their time to explain things, and our crew were really nice too, resulting in much fun and double entendres. The band came on to soundcheck and we all went up and sat quietly on the disabled riser while they ran through 7 songs, including You Love You, La Tristessa, Little Baby Nothing and You Stole The Sun From My Heart. It was like a private gig for the five of us, and my eyes were moist. *sniffles* The actual gig was a bit bizarre, as the crowd didn't feel particularly up for it, a few songs it got a little crushy, but for the most part it was a very easy gig (except for my back starting to twinge halfway through!) Shame I like the crushy. Missed crushy. *grump*
Only problem was at the end. One of the roadies asked me out to dinner. OK, it's quite flattering. Was not ever EVER going to happen (I used the "boyfriend" card... naughty *emmaaa*!) But as anyone who's ever worked with me knows, I really REALLY hate being treated like a girl on gigs. I'm not a mental feminist who insists that everything men can do I can do; I know my limits. And I don't mind asking for help going up ramps or lifting things. It's not the jokey comments that get me, although they CAN get annoying after a while- repetition does not make things funnier (if I don't laugh first time, give it up.) It's knowing that for the entire gig this particular roadie (who was being friendly and jokey with me all day) wasn't doing it because he thought I was doing a good job, he was doing it because I was arse and tits pushing a box. I know I shouldn't let it get to me so much, it's what happens in this industry. It just upsets me because I felt I was doing a really good job yesterday. OK, I'm very rusty on Octagon gigs, but I was working hard, trying to help people in the truck, prevented a couple of mini-disasters (but not all!) I even got told to stay in the truck to help re-tip it. But apparently it wasn't enough. I miss being kick ass. I used to love those Winding Wheel gigs where the truckies seemed to gain a bit of respect for me by the end of the day, not because they wanted to bone me, but because they'd watched me work and realised that OK, I was a girl, but I was a girl that was quite good at what she did. And I could push monitor boxes up ramps. On my own. I need some new steelies, the grip on these ones renders me incapable of pushing anything heavier than a distro up a ramp.
AAAAAnyway. After said gig, ended up at Ponds Forge to do a load-out. By this point, was fucking knackered, felt really pukey after eating half a pizza (I think there's something wrong with my belly... it's not enjoying food at the moment.) and hardly able to walk in a staright line, so perhaps was a little off the ball and a little short with people (although Adie's dick waving really REALLY fucks me off. Mainly because I'm jealous because crewing and followspotting the Winding Wheel was my favourite thing, and now he does it a fair bit and talks about it like it makes him special. I know I'm just being jealous and cranky because I haven't slept. But still. Don't try and tell me how to take down Ponds Forge you arrogant fucker.*) But it came down fairly quickly, was asleep by 6, just unfortunate that I had to wake up at 11 to come to the Leadmill. On the plus side, I can now go home. Which is what I am going to do now. Screw the show blacks.
*I feel I will get some responses telling me that I am in fact countering his dickishness with dickishness of my own... please don't. I know that was a dickish thing to say, I just needed to vent. :-(