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la_belle_laideThe show I did was in Sag Harbor, at a private party, and you could smell the old money as soon as you got into town. The only two people that really spoke to me today were the maid and the front door. "Front left door open," it said when I opened it to drag my gear inside. But it doesn't count as a person. Neither, apparently, does The Help.
First: the house. It had art in it. You know how you have like tchochkes and knicknacks and stuff around the house? These people had real pieces of art. They actually had an entire room of art. It wasn't the size of the house that was so impressive (though it was huge, with lots of windows looking out over the bay,) it was just all the crazy, haute couture stuff that they had in it. We're talking about total Hamptons Fashion Crap of the Old Rich.
So I got there, and everyone completely ignored me for the first ten minutes. Finally the hostess came up and looked me over disdainfully. "You can put your stuff in the little room in the back, I guess." The "little room in the back" seemed to be the maid's bedroom, because the maid was sitting on the bed talking on the phone. I apologized for interrupting her, and was so thankful when was friendly enough to say it was all right to leave my stuff there.
After about ten minutes, Miss Hostess came back in and said, "We're not ready for you yet. The kids want to go swimming." Now keep in mind, I was hired for ONE HOUR, with an extra maybe fifteen minutes to do those little tattoos with the kids and take questions and pictures or whatever. But I really wanted to be accomodating. I want to have a business and I want the word around town to be a good one, so I put up with this. I told her to take her time and do what she needed to do. She shrugged and walked away.
About ten minutes later Mr. Host came into the kitchen and started yelling at the maid because she had put the pizza in the oven too soon. "Now it's too hot!" he said, "and the kids are hungry NOW!" (Logic? Who needs it when you have money?) The maid said, "The dancer is here and I think she's ready to go on." Mr. Host said, "Well she can wait! I think that lunch is more important!" I don't know if he knew that I was the dancer, although on the other hand, he pretty much had to. I was the only one there who wasn't wearing a hundred dollar bathing suit.
So I was waiting around in the little room in the back, pretending that I had a lot of preparation to do. Then the maid came in and suggested that I go and tell Mrs. Hostess that I was ready when she was. So I went outside onto the deck and waited to catch her eye. Oddly enough, even though her eye swept past me at least five times, I never did manage to catch it. Her parents were standing behind me then, and I turned to them and pulled a line straight out of Lord Of War: "You have a beautiful ... everything." They both said, "Mmm hmm," crossed their arms over their chests, and turned away. Mrs. Hostess went by and I commented that I liked her music and thought we probably had a similar party mix (she was playing Bob Marley.) She said, "Mmm hmm," and walked into the kitchen for a drink. I was thinking, Bob Marley would feel sorry for her. 'If you think it's the dress you wear that makes you a lady, get that out of your mind, you must be crazy; you're just a brand-new second-hand.' (Okay, so Bunny Wailer sang that one, but still.)
The maid offered me a beer and something to eat, which I declined. That's all I need, for these people to catch me eating their scraps. She said to me, "You seem shy." I told her that I just tended to get nervous before I danced, but that once I started I would be fine. What I didn't say: "I'm not shy, just finding myself in an incredibly tense and awkward situation."
Eventually Mrs. Hostess came to get me (it's amazing how someone can talk to you and not look at you one single time the entire conversation,) and I got my music set up, got into my Kahiko clothes, and began explaining to the group of kids what I would be dancing. Fortunately, the kids all seemed interested. (Before I began, I asked if some of the adults would be coming up for a Hula lesson, too. They looked at me like my brain had fallen out and stained their nice posh deck.) I did He Mele No Lilo, A Kona Hema (a bit of a random choice for a young audience but I figured they would like the 'uli'uli,) and then I sat down in the deck and explained to them what the next Hula was going to be about. It was O Ke Ahi A Lonomakua. That's a terribly violent song and very suggestive, but I toned it down and turned it into a fun story about the woman--Pele--rightly turning down a rude man and then winning the subsequent battle with him. That got all the girls giggling. Then I taught He Mele No Lilo (Mrs. Hostess and her mother all the while trying to take pictures of the kids around me,) and then I got out the poi balls and we went into the yard.
As we were doing the poi balls, one of the little girls there started bragging about all of the places she gets to go with her parents: Israel, Australia, Hawai'i, and "I pretty much can do anything I want" blah blah. What do you say to a seven year old who already has that attitude? I guess you just smile and say, "That's wonderful for you." But a few of the kids there were actually very cute and very nice.
Then I got changed and did the Tahitian part, which I cut drastically short, because I'd already been out there for about 35 minutes, plus they had held me up for about 30 beforehand. The kids really liked the Tahitian part, too. They all got to scream along with me. And then I sat down and they all lined up with their little tattoos. One little girl asked me where I live. I told her where and she said she hadn't heard of it. "Have you heard of (Town Name redacted)?" I asked. Again, no. Now a few of the other girls were interested in this mysterious place. "You know, around by Target and KMart and all of that?" Mystified looks. "Have you ever been to Target?" Mystified looks. At that point, I just laughed. "Well, it's around by that town."
This part wasn't so bad, because I was in the shade, sitting, and none of the adults were around. Oh, up until there were two girls left and the mother of Mrs. Hostess came up to me and said, "Can we please take a tattoo break? She's bringing the cake out and we're on a schedule." What I wanted to say: "Old bitch, you're lucky I'm not 'on a schedule,' otherwise my firm and swaying ass would have been out the talking front left door an hour ago." What I did say: "There are just two more girls. One minute." She said, "But we're on a schedule. The cake!" I looked at the girls and said, "Would you like to have your cake now and finish this later?" They both grinned and shook their heads. Haha, I won.
On my way back inside, one of the guests there, a young girl of about twenty I guess, said, "That was very nice. You're so ... exotic." I get that word a lot, enough to understand when someone means, "Like wow, you're so not part of my culture, but society obliges me to say something to you." I thanked her with a smile and refrained from saying, "And you're so not." I think this was her version of "nice" when dealing with someone outside of her sphere, after all.
Then I went back to the little room, got changed, and waited for Mrs. Hostess. "How much?" she said, like I'd just given her head or something. "Eighty five for me, one hundred and fifteen for ----." (The guy who called me for this job, the one was on my case about being "bubbly" and making sure I wore a lot of makeup.) She asked if she could give me a check for 200, or would two checks be better. I told her two checks, please, because I knew I wouldn't have time to cash it and split it before seeing ----- again on Tuesday. Then she disappeared into the upper levels of her abode for about ten minutes. When she returned, it was with two checks and a twenty dollar bill. "Here's a little something extra for you," she said. "Bye."
Well, hey, it's money, right? And I did my Hula very well. I did right by Laka, or I tried to. Not my fault if they don't know what they're getting.
Fast forward to 9:30 tonight. Sitting down with Jeremy and totally whooping him on SCIII, Kilik on a roll here. Phone rings, and it's ------ asking me how it went. Just fine, I told him. I think the kids really liked the show. The house was nice. The set was good. The children were interested.
"Good," he said. "Did you get my money?" Like he hired me out to give head or something. Yes, she gave me the checks. "Checks! But I wanted cash!" This was an actual whine. Well, I guess she didn't have the cash. "But the deal was for cash!" Yes, but that's not what she gave me. "Well did you get it all in one check?" No, I got two seperate checks, one for me and one for you. "But Jules, why did you do that?" Again with the whining. Do what, exactly? "Get it in two checks?!"
Because some of us are working three jobs and can't get to the bank to cash a check before tuesday, do you understand that?
"Yes, but I wanted the cash!" Again with the goddamn whining!
Jeremy, sensing my hostility, had been looking at me all wide-eyed and WTFish, and without removing the phone from my lips I said, "I'm going to smack this bitch."
That made ----- get all quiet. I really need to stop conducting my business with profanity. Or not. Whichever.
"Well, but the show went well?" he asked. Yes, I ended up there for almost two and a half hours, but the show went well. "But why so long? When I do a show, I'm in and out of there in one hour!" (Which makes me wonder, what the hell "show" does this guy even do?) I explained to him, in the nicest way possible, about how they'd kept me waiting. I said that Mr. Host wanted the kids to have their lunch. "Why was he like that? Did he think your outfits were too sexy or something?" Uhm, no, he hadn't even seen any of my outfits at the time. I waited in the little back room for a half an hour before even starting. "Well what kept you so long? Was it the tattoos that took up all the time?" Again, no: I waited until they were ready for me to go on because I was told to. "Well, that's not right. They shouldn't have done that."
Indeed.
"Well, I'll be by Tuesday to pick up the check, then."
You do that.
What I didn't say: For the love of Christ, please do not hire me again.
Lessons: Subcontracting is not ideal. People who think they are better than you almost always aren't. I can dance Hula under almost any condition. I will own Friday's show.
First: the house. It had art in it. You know how you have like tchochkes and knicknacks and stuff around the house? These people had real pieces of art. They actually had an entire room of art. It wasn't the size of the house that was so impressive (though it was huge, with lots of windows looking out over the bay,) it was just all the crazy, haute couture stuff that they had in it. We're talking about total Hamptons Fashion Crap of the Old Rich.
So I got there, and everyone completely ignored me for the first ten minutes. Finally the hostess came up and looked me over disdainfully. "You can put your stuff in the little room in the back, I guess." The "little room in the back" seemed to be the maid's bedroom, because the maid was sitting on the bed talking on the phone. I apologized for interrupting her, and was so thankful when was friendly enough to say it was all right to leave my stuff there.
After about ten minutes, Miss Hostess came back in and said, "We're not ready for you yet. The kids want to go swimming." Now keep in mind, I was hired for ONE HOUR, with an extra maybe fifteen minutes to do those little tattoos with the kids and take questions and pictures or whatever. But I really wanted to be accomodating. I want to have a business and I want the word around town to be a good one, so I put up with this. I told her to take her time and do what she needed to do. She shrugged and walked away.
About ten minutes later Mr. Host came into the kitchen and started yelling at the maid because she had put the pizza in the oven too soon. "Now it's too hot!" he said, "and the kids are hungry NOW!" (Logic? Who needs it when you have money?) The maid said, "The dancer is here and I think she's ready to go on." Mr. Host said, "Well she can wait! I think that lunch is more important!" I don't know if he knew that I was the dancer, although on the other hand, he pretty much had to. I was the only one there who wasn't wearing a hundred dollar bathing suit.
So I was waiting around in the little room in the back, pretending that I had a lot of preparation to do. Then the maid came in and suggested that I go and tell Mrs. Hostess that I was ready when she was. So I went outside onto the deck and waited to catch her eye. Oddly enough, even though her eye swept past me at least five times, I never did manage to catch it. Her parents were standing behind me then, and I turned to them and pulled a line straight out of Lord Of War: "You have a beautiful ... everything." They both said, "Mmm hmm," crossed their arms over their chests, and turned away. Mrs. Hostess went by and I commented that I liked her music and thought we probably had a similar party mix (she was playing Bob Marley.) She said, "Mmm hmm," and walked into the kitchen for a drink. I was thinking, Bob Marley would feel sorry for her. 'If you think it's the dress you wear that makes you a lady, get that out of your mind, you must be crazy; you're just a brand-new second-hand.' (Okay, so Bunny Wailer sang that one, but still.)
The maid offered me a beer and something to eat, which I declined. That's all I need, for these people to catch me eating their scraps. She said to me, "You seem shy." I told her that I just tended to get nervous before I danced, but that once I started I would be fine. What I didn't say: "I'm not shy, just finding myself in an incredibly tense and awkward situation."
Eventually Mrs. Hostess came to get me (it's amazing how someone can talk to you and not look at you one single time the entire conversation,) and I got my music set up, got into my Kahiko clothes, and began explaining to the group of kids what I would be dancing. Fortunately, the kids all seemed interested. (Before I began, I asked if some of the adults would be coming up for a Hula lesson, too. They looked at me like my brain had fallen out and stained their nice posh deck.) I did He Mele No Lilo, A Kona Hema (a bit of a random choice for a young audience but I figured they would like the 'uli'uli,) and then I sat down in the deck and explained to them what the next Hula was going to be about. It was O Ke Ahi A Lonomakua. That's a terribly violent song and very suggestive, but I toned it down and turned it into a fun story about the woman--Pele--rightly turning down a rude man and then winning the subsequent battle with him. That got all the girls giggling. Then I taught He Mele No Lilo (Mrs. Hostess and her mother all the while trying to take pictures of the kids around me,) and then I got out the poi balls and we went into the yard.
As we were doing the poi balls, one of the little girls there started bragging about all of the places she gets to go with her parents: Israel, Australia, Hawai'i, and "I pretty much can do anything I want" blah blah. What do you say to a seven year old who already has that attitude? I guess you just smile and say, "That's wonderful for you." But a few of the kids there were actually very cute and very nice.
Then I got changed and did the Tahitian part, which I cut drastically short, because I'd already been out there for about 35 minutes, plus they had held me up for about 30 beforehand. The kids really liked the Tahitian part, too. They all got to scream along with me. And then I sat down and they all lined up with their little tattoos. One little girl asked me where I live. I told her where and she said she hadn't heard of it. "Have you heard of (Town Name redacted)?" I asked. Again, no. Now a few of the other girls were interested in this mysterious place. "You know, around by Target and KMart and all of that?" Mystified looks. "Have you ever been to Target?" Mystified looks. At that point, I just laughed. "Well, it's around by that town."
This part wasn't so bad, because I was in the shade, sitting, and none of the adults were around. Oh, up until there were two girls left and the mother of Mrs. Hostess came up to me and said, "Can we please take a tattoo break? She's bringing the cake out and we're on a schedule." What I wanted to say: "Old bitch, you're lucky I'm not 'on a schedule,' otherwise my firm and swaying ass would have been out the talking front left door an hour ago." What I did say: "There are just two more girls. One minute." She said, "But we're on a schedule. The cake!" I looked at the girls and said, "Would you like to have your cake now and finish this later?" They both grinned and shook their heads. Haha, I won.
On my way back inside, one of the guests there, a young girl of about twenty I guess, said, "That was very nice. You're so ... exotic." I get that word a lot, enough to understand when someone means, "Like wow, you're so not part of my culture, but society obliges me to say something to you." I thanked her with a smile and refrained from saying, "And you're so not." I think this was her version of "nice" when dealing with someone outside of her sphere, after all.
Then I went back to the little room, got changed, and waited for Mrs. Hostess. "How much?" she said, like I'd just given her head or something. "Eighty five for me, one hundred and fifteen for ----." (The guy who called me for this job, the one was on my case about being "bubbly" and making sure I wore a lot of makeup.) She asked if she could give me a check for 200, or would two checks be better. I told her two checks, please, because I knew I wouldn't have time to cash it and split it before seeing ----- again on Tuesday. Then she disappeared into the upper levels of her abode for about ten minutes. When she returned, it was with two checks and a twenty dollar bill. "Here's a little something extra for you," she said. "Bye."
Well, hey, it's money, right? And I did my Hula very well. I did right by Laka, or I tried to. Not my fault if they don't know what they're getting.
Fast forward to 9:30 tonight. Sitting down with Jeremy and totally whooping him on SCIII, Kilik on a roll here. Phone rings, and it's ------ asking me how it went. Just fine, I told him. I think the kids really liked the show. The house was nice. The set was good. The children were interested.
"Good," he said. "Did you get my money?" Like he hired me out to give head or something. Yes, she gave me the checks. "Checks! But I wanted cash!" This was an actual whine. Well, I guess she didn't have the cash. "But the deal was for cash!" Yes, but that's not what she gave me. "Well did you get it all in one check?" No, I got two seperate checks, one for me and one for you. "But Jules, why did you do that?" Again with the whining. Do what, exactly? "Get it in two checks?!"
Because some of us are working three jobs and can't get to the bank to cash a check before tuesday, do you understand that?
"Yes, but I wanted the cash!" Again with the goddamn whining!
Jeremy, sensing my hostility, had been looking at me all wide-eyed and WTFish, and without removing the phone from my lips I said, "I'm going to smack this bitch."
That made ----- get all quiet. I really need to stop conducting my business with profanity. Or not. Whichever.
"Well, but the show went well?" he asked. Yes, I ended up there for almost two and a half hours, but the show went well. "But why so long? When I do a show, I'm in and out of there in one hour!" (Which makes me wonder, what the hell "show" does this guy even do?) I explained to him, in the nicest way possible, about how they'd kept me waiting. I said that Mr. Host wanted the kids to have their lunch. "Why was he like that? Did he think your outfits were too sexy or something?" Uhm, no, he hadn't even seen any of my outfits at the time. I waited in the little back room for a half an hour before even starting. "Well what kept you so long? Was it the tattoos that took up all the time?" Again, no: I waited until they were ready for me to go on because I was told to. "Well, that's not right. They shouldn't have done that."
Indeed.
"Well, I'll be by Tuesday to pick up the check, then."
You do that.
What I didn't say: For the love of Christ, please do not hire me again.
Lessons: Subcontracting is not ideal. People who think they are better than you almost always aren't. I can dance Hula under almost any condition. I will own Friday's show.
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no subject
Date: 2006-08-07 03:57 am (UTC)And that just cements the fact that you need to see Ouran High School Host Club now. XD It's just exactly people like that that Haruhi has to deal with (only, like in all anime, they're actually nice deep down.... if stupid). XD
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Date: 2006-08-07 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-07 07:58 pm (UTC)Just hurts to read how you get jerked over so badly just for being a decent human being.
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Date: 2006-08-08 01:17 am (UTC)