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A good old fashioned moan
15-09-2010Did you ever have just 'one of those days'? One were it's one niggly thing after another going every way but right. I had one on Monday so I figured I would have a good old fashioned moan about it. Vent, if you will.
Firstly, to the 9am courier (who 'mis delivered' the last of my movie screeners that had to be sent to critics before they were to interview the director and the actor the next day,) you generally check that you have the right place before you drop of a package without even getting anyone to sign for it / point out that you are a dimwit and have delivered it to the wrong address.
To the girl who tried to play an EPK in a standard video player causing it to warp - you tit! AN EPK is about half the size of a standard video tape, what part of your teeny tiny brain thought it would play in something that looked like it could swallow it whole?
To courier number two who was due to deliver the emergency second EPK on an express delivery bike, I think you should buy a dictionary and look up the meaning of the word 'express'.
To the journalist who repeatedly called me as I stood in the rain juggling a ton of bags unable to get to my phone buried in the bottom of my handbag, it's call voice mail. I don't say 'leave your name and number and I will get back to you' for the craic you know.
To the old hag who sat across from me on the train as I tried with every ounce of my strength to precariously balance my gazillion bags, it was so nice of you to move your legs to the side and let the inside passenger out at her stop so saving me the hassle of having to rejuggle all my stuff and before it tumbled to the floor of a packed commuter train, eh NOT!
To the same personable lady, I am so sorry my laptop bag whacked of your knee as the inside passenger hurried to help me pick up all my stuff while you stared unseeingly at your newspaper. Karma is a bitch.
To the gaggle of students who decided to use the floor of the train as a sprawled out seating area making it nigh on impossible to maneuver towards the door when I finally got to my stop. There is a reason anyone over the age of 25 thinks you are a bunch of obnoxious spoilt little brats without any real capacity for manners not to mention common courtesy.
To the train driver who drove at the speed of a freight snail, thanks for making it impossible for me to actually get dinner before heading to the airport to continue my fabulous day.
To the taxi driver who didn't speak a word of English and managed to get us lost on the straight road between my apartment and the airport, while all the time ignoring my directions. Let me tell you this, learn to listen to women, we tend to be right at most things. And that certainly includes driving.
To the actor and the director who were so kind to grace me with their presence, you are not A list and you need to master the art of modesty and grace. P.s movies only do great at the box office if they are publicized well, so it's best not to piss of the person in charge of your PR. This includes refraining from mocking her accent, telling her she looks about 12 and then questioning if she is old enough to do the job, turning a 'bag drop' at the hotel into an hour log stop of while you freshen up and so on and so forth.
To the projectionist at the cinema, thanks so much for cocking up your one job and cutting the film short. Your master editing skills meant the most important scene of the movie was cut and the director being the epitome of modesty and grace that he is threw the mother of all strops before chucking his umbrella in my direction and storming out refusing to do the Q&A session for which they actually came for, forcing me to go 'hard ass PR bitch' on his ass to get him back it. It was 11pm at night and I had no desire to go hard ass bitch, but your excellent ability at movie projection left me no choice.
Finally, last but not least, to the pervy old man who stared at me most of the way home, thank you for being the 'giant pickle on the crap sandwich that was my day'.
Tags: meanderings
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