Last night, my husband and I attended this awesome party with free food and cocktails provided by gourmet restaurants. It was a arts benefit so there was lots of art and music to experience as we sipped our signature mixologies. The tickets for the event cost $150 each, but we got to go for free. That's right, I'm VIP. No, not really.
After work last week, I volunteered to help an arts organization prep for a big event. This was after an already long week of work and midterms. I don't know what I was thinking! AND to make matters worse, I double-booked myself without realizing and had to leave straight from volunteering there and go work at another site for free. I'm crazy, I know. (But that party made it all worth while!)
So after leaving work, I went straight to my first volunteer job. After a little while of waiting around to be given a job, I was assigned the task of folding brochures. Done. Next, I was asked to cut lemons and limes.
I was escorted to the kitchen, where the proper lemon and lime cutting technique was demonstrated. Then I was left alone, except for the two people chatting at the kitchen table.
Normally, you say "hello" when someone else enters the room or at least acknowledge their presence, especially if that person is standing 2 feet away from you. But this did not happen. And after a while of observing these individuals and listening to their conversation, I realized that they were recording an interview. They were recounting their experiences while filming Beasts of the Southern Wild. (If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it!). They were telling all these crazy stories about their experiences filming and interacting with the people on that small island in rural Louisiana. Some of the stories were funny, some were really stupid, and some were extremely disturbing.
I felt really strange listening to their conversation. But what was I to do?! There was no one else to talk to and cutting citrus isn't the most thought-provoking work. Every now and then I found myself making small noises in response to what they had said: a laugh or a shocked "oh" sound.
Sometimes, other people, who were also not acknowledged, came into the room. Some of them made a lot of noise. I kept waiting for the interviewers to stop them, but they never did. At one point a guy came in and, after listening to their conversation for a bit, chimed in! He added some comments and offered some of his own experiences. The interviewers politely listened to the guy's comments and then continued the interview without really talking to the guy. Guy then awkwardly left the kitchen.
The stories continued...
...huge bugs...got to back-up really big shit...dented this guy's $3000 trailer...show them your pussy...like, it was like...n-word...lost on the swamp...ran out of gas in the boat...big ass bugs...like, it like changed the way I, like, live...road kill stored in a gas station freezer...inspired me...those bugs made me want to throw up...never worked for someone else for 4 months straight...I'm from Providence...thinking to make smell boxes of the entire experience...like like like...fuck fuck fuck...
Finally, after 50 or so pieces of citrus, the interview came to a close. They turned off their recording devise, thanked each other and left. I felt strange for a while after it was all over and am still thinking about it days later. (Oh and somewhere in the middle of all this the bar manager came in and told me to cut the citrus a different way.)
So when you one day hear the exciting and bizarre accounts of these 2 small, unimportant film crew members, who thought too highly of themselves after this life changing-experience they called "Beasts" to acknowledge the presence of others, turn the volume up really loud and listen for me in the background, chopping citrus and making awkward, immediately-regretted noises under my breath.
PS the film is over, you can bathe now.
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