Uptalking in Sacramento

Sacramento, California

Yesterday morning I arranged for a cleaner to pick up our clothes and drycleaning at 6 am. This hour was his idea not mine, as I actually wouldn't have minded getting more than four hours of sleep. But since I was handing over 21 pieces of handmade professional costumes involving glass beads, fur pom poms, brocade, and velvet which were so dirty they could have walked off the bus and hopped into the cleaner's car themselves, I gave him the extra time to do an excellent job, thereby preserving the good name of Stage Matters.

I got up at 5:45 and called the cleaner. He answered the phone immediately and said, "Are those your big brown tour buses parked on the street?"

I frowned and said, "Ummmm, yeees?" in a slow uptalk.

Note: slow uptalk also works well as sarcasm, when you're pissed off but trying to keep cool. This was not the case yesterday. I was just tired and OF COURSE THEY'RE OUR TOUR BUSES!

I hate it when I'm like this. The power of sleep deprivation to negatively impact one's attitude and personality should never be underestimated.

"I've already circled the block twice," he said.

Mr. Cleaner, SETTLE DOWN.

"I'll be right out," I said.

After handing over the bags of clothes, I crawled back in my bunk to sleep until 8:00, at which point I got up to scope the dressing room scene. I found a room with a private shower and door that locked. Score.

Twenty minutes later I opened the door refreshed and ready to take on a new day of towels, hunting down strappy dance heels which are finally starting to not all look alike to me, chasing after tango hats and beaded bras that didn't make it to stage on time, and, of course, some serious shit-shooting.

A woman was standing on the other side of my door in the dressing room hallway. She stuck out her hand and shook mine.

"Hi. I'm from the city," she said. "How was your shower?"

Which, again, begged for some slow uptalk on my part because why is a woman "from the city" interested in my shower? 

"It was...great?"

"So it was good?" she pressed.

"Yeah. It was hot."

"Good, good," she said. "I'm just checking on everything."

I walked slowly down the hallway, smiling, and tossed my towel into the hamper that I'd put out earlier. People in Sacramento just really seem to like their jobs. Either that or I'm still delirious.

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