Returning from my hiatus, I arrive at the hotel in Newark.
Concierge: May I help you?
Me: Hi, checking in under Burke.
Concierge: I don't see it.
Me: Maybe it's under Spanelli?
Concierge: Nick?
Me: That's it!
Concierge:...but I don't know who you are.
Me: I'm Kristen Burke, I'm with the touring company that the keys are saved under. Signstage? Windwood?
Concierge: I mean, I have it here. But I mean...who ARE you?
Me:...still Kristen.
He then shrugged and literally tossed the key at me. What ever to those friendly singing bellhops from the 40's.
Shows are more fun when you have "Bros" working back stage. "Bros" are young men who travel in bands much like the ancient Inuits, except instead of seal skin coats, they wear fraternity sweatshirts and khaki shorts. They're language style is as thus:
Me: So, you all go to Frostburgh State?
Bros: Yeah
Me: A good friend of mine went there--
Bro #1: She sounds AWESOME!
Me: Yes...yes she is.
Finally, you know you're in Florida when the business men come to breakfast in khakis and flip-flops and the women wear pastel pink plaid shorts and insist that the housekeeping staff try the soy milk she demanded, while these women nod patronizingly and return to their coffee.
No comments:
Post a Comment