The Nail

~

For the want of a screw the wire was lost;
For the want of a wire the connection was lost;
For the want of a connection the battery was lost;
For the want of a battery the car was lost;
For the want of a car her world was lost;
And all for the want of a god-damn screw.

~

The car is fixed, but I've realized just how scary it is to be attached to a 2-ton metal box. And how scary it is not to have a network of friends.

The car broke down in the parking lot of Zach Scott Theatre...I thought that was going to be just fine since I work there. "At least I won't be stranded alone," I mused.

I might as well have been in the Sahara. People I have worked with for over a year walked past me and my open hood with nothing more than a furtive glance. These are people I have partied with...gotten drunk on roofs with...bailed out at the last minute.... And they all walked by without asking if I needed anything.

I'm not taking it too personally, since everyone does that to everyone else. It's like they're all walking around in their own little personal bubbles. No one connects with anyone else...EVER. I would expect that kind of attitude from corporate monkeys, but this is a THEATRE! These are supposed to be artistic people, and artistic people, by nature, cannot survive alone. But these people, apparently, can and do.

It makes me a little sick.

Which is why I will finish the dates I committed to and then never set foot in that elitist, pompous, arrogant, snob of a place again.

~