I'm Not Ready to Make Nice

Nov 16, 2007 11:32

Ever since we are old enough to talk, our family, our teachers, and our spiritual leaders try to put one big life lesson into our heads: Play nice with others. Treat others the way you would like to be treated.  Be a good person, they tell us, and good things will come to you.

This is bullshit.

I'm a nice guy. A good man. I treat those around me unfailingly well. And what does it get me? I get walked all over. I get taken advantage of. I get sick. Sure, I get kind words about what a wonderful person I am, but I can't do anything with words. Words don't help me.

Allow me to explain. I have been the only person without any of his costumes for the show I'm currently in for the past two and a half weeks. I don't complain, as I'm not used to working with costumes until, you know, the dress rehearsal. Dress rehearsal comes and goes, and I still don't have some costume pieces. I come in early to rehearsal on a day when I shouldn't be out of bed (more on that later) to be fitted for a costume, and the next day, our final dress rehearsal, it isn't there. There is still one big number in the show that I have yet to do in full costume, and we open today. The costumer was all over me with praise about how wonderful I've been in not bugging her every five seconds (or even at all) about getting the costumes before this week, like some of the other actors. But, what good did it do me? NONE. I'm still without two costume pieces on opening night.

And did I mention that I'm sick? The second I found out that the director intended to use actual live dogs for a five-second bit in the show, I let her know that I was greatly allergic to dogs, and that I was worried about how it was going to affect my performance, not to mention my health. She said to try working with the dogs and see what happens. Without fail, I begin to have allergy attacks that compromise my ability to sing on-key. I bring this up. "You have to work with me," says the director, despite my repeated attempts to tell her that it doesn't matter if the dogs are kenneled outside until the exact moment they are needed and then put back there immediately afterwards, because they will leave their hair and dander all over the stage. She just didn't get it. The dogs don't come to a few rehearsals, I start to feel better, and she finds some wipes or shampoo or something that is supposed to make the dogs more allergy-friendly. Fine, I say. Whatever, as long as it works. On Tuesday night, I get a massive allergy attack, so much so that I can't sing the next day. So on Wednesday I tell her that I can not stay for rehearsal that night if she expects me to be ready to perform for an audience at the open dress the next day. I tell her that whatever they're doing to the dogs, it clearly isn't working. She says, "Oh, well, I know that they didn't wipe the dogs down last night, so I'm going to add it to the list of things the stage manager has to do before the show, so it will work. Work with me here." Fine. Whatever. Last night, open dress. I'm feeling better. Performing well enough with a stuffy nose. The dogs come on, the dogs come off. WHAM! I start sneezing up a storm backstage. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid all those weeks ago when I told the director that I just couldn't deal with the dogs. Having to threaten to quit the day before we open. But she didn't listen. "You have to work with me on this." Bullshit. The bit with the dogs doesn't even look good, because it's only three dogs, they're not chasing the guy like they're supposed to, so their owners are walking them on leashes. It looks stupid, and everyone hates it. Except for the freaking director.

So, last night, I pull the producer, who happens to be a good family friend of ours, aside after the show and tell him I'm done. I'm through being the nice guy. I'm not a diva, I don't complain about things, but this is ridiculous. I told you people weeks ago that I couldn't deal with the dogs, but you didn't listen. So now I'm drawing the line. If the dogs are in the show, I don't feel comfortable being in the show. I have been nothing if not the model cast member throughout this entire rehearsal process, and now I'm sick and without costumes the day before we open. I can't work like this anymore. Thankfully, I received an email this morning saying that the dogs are finally out of the show. I only hope that the costumer, lovely woman though she is, was reprimanded in some way.

This show was supposed to be a dream. It was the perfect cast, most of whom had worked with each other before numerous times, and all of whom were ideally and uniquely suited to the roles in which they were cast. The director has, by everyone's judgment, ruined the experience, and possibly the show itself. The audiences opening weekend will tell, but I expect that the show will be received only mildly well. I suggested this show to the theater because I thought it would work well in the space: It's a small cast with a unit set and a wonderful, witty book and score. However, the director took away the unit set and chose to use three huge panels that are nearly impossible to turn around in the time a good scene change should take. The time the scene changes take nearly kill the show. It's sad for me to watch this great show turned into a mediocre one, especially with all the great talent involved. I just hope the cast can rise above and deliver.

And on top of all this, yesterday when I am sick and in bed, I get a call from my boss. "If you're not coming in today can you come in tomorrow?" I was planning to anyway, since we had Monday off due to Veteran's Day, but only if I was feeling better. Because I am a good person, I am here, even though I shouldn't be. I should be at home resting and getting better for the show this weekend. But, instead, I went in to the office, where I was just told that I have to get a 200+ piece mailing out today. By myself. While sick.

So, I guess my question is: Why do I bother being a good person, when all I get is empty praise and undue stress?
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