Sunday, March 09, 2014

Diva Moment

Right, so, I'm not proud of the total Diva Moment I pulled in a Subway restaurant last night, but in retrospect, it is the stuff of comedy.

Before I share the story, you have to understand something about the week leading up to this weekend: it was insane. Not bad, not even difficult, just insane in that I spent way too many hours away from the house and I didn't get my optimal amount of "me" time in there, because any time I got at home was spent getting ready for another 12-hour day. My workouts were minimal this week, which I did deliberately because I was busy and because I was long overdue for a few days off from pushing myself. Still, lack of "proper" workouts (read: dripping sweat, breathing hard, feeling like I just slayed the troll in the Hogwart's loo) left me feeling sluggish and cranky.

So by Saturday, when I had one hour to scrounge up some dinner between a Sac Choral rehearsal and the concert, and I was already feeling tired, you can imagine that Cranky Meg was starting to emerge. She was vaguely amused by the Comic Con costumes she saw as she walked a few blocks from the theater to Subway, but she was also hungry, tired, and in a hurry.

The Subway was about to close for the day, but they had about four people behind the counter helping a line of about six people. Despite having all these people, they were slower than molasses ("Do you want this toasted?" "No." A moment later: "Do you want this toasted?" "Um, no.") and I was glancing at the clock on my phone with some dismay.

Finally, I was next to pay. The lady behind the register sloooowly rang up the lady in front of me, dawdled a bit, and then kept talking to her even as she walked away and I opened my mouth to ask for the meal deal.

I managed to get it paid for, and I grabbed my cup, thinking, "Great! A cool drink." Only to turn around and find...they'd turned the drinks machine off for the day.

Okay. I get it, you're closing. But there were still several people behind me, who would, one assumes, want a drink as well. And I was standing there, thinking, "I really need to get back to the theater so I can SIT for five minutes and read my book and hide from other human beings and all I want is a bloody drink. Is that too much to ask?"

And that's when my Diva Moment happened. I sighed--loudly--and walked back to the counter. I set my cup down with a thunk and said, "You know what? Never mind. I have a call time. Can I get out of here?" You see, to prevent other people coming in and getting in line, they had locked the door. And there was no one on hand to open it. A manager rushed to let the crazy lady (*ahem* me...) out, and I flounced out, clutching my choir folder in one hand an a sandwich and chips (but no drink) in the other. I might even have sighed loudly again.

I"m not proud of myself--I wasn't very reasonable and I was a little a lot rude--but this morning, I have to laugh a little. It's really not how I normally behave, and while my exhaustion doesn't excuse it, it does give some explanation.

I relayed the story to another singer and his wife last night, and both laughed uproariously, and allowed that every so often, we're allowed our Diva Moments. 

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