So Sunday night, the end of an 8-show week, I’m worn out and over it and my attitude is souring fast. Everyone still keeps asking for things, right up to the end of the second show (“The bathroom in the boys dressing room is out of soap.” “Okay, use the other bathroom, it’s like 20 minutes until the end of the show.”) (Although then I totally did refill the soap for them.) (I can’t exactly figure out whose job that is, which makes me think it might fall under the “production assistant” umbrella). Anyway, it’s been a long week.
I finally get out of the building, get in the car, start digging for my iPod, Himself has been off work and I just want to get home and sit around and watch TV with him…and I remember that I left my food in the fridge, and I was going to eat it tonight. I debate for about 3 seconds, then get out of the car, slam the door, and start striding back toward the building. Feel for keys in my hoodie pocket, and…nothing there. Keys in purse, which is actually in my hand? Nope. Keys in the ignition of the locked car? Check.
I call Himself because I’ve heard you can use a remote fob thingie and unlock a car from far away, through your cell phones. He’s not at home but heads back there. There may be a little bit of crying as I explain what happened, because this is just embarrassing. I locked my keys in the car like an idiot because I had to go back inside to get my food? Come on now.
I climb up onto the trunk to sit there and mope, with maybe a few more tears. Suddenly Ted the sound designer/mixer calls from behind me to ask if I’m okay. Instead of responding how I’ve been responding to any personal inquiries all week – “I’m fine” – I let it out. He pulls his car around and parks next to me, asking questions like “Power windows or manual?” and “Have you ever broken into your car before?” Which, funnily enough, I haven’t. At some point, Himself calls back and we try the remote-unlocking, which of course totally doesn’t work. So he and the two friends he was out to dinner with start the drive to Marin.
Ted works diligently using a heavy-duty coat hanger we steal from the costume shop (I also shamelessly pick up the oh-so-important food), while I hold the flashlight and make helpful comments like “Seriously, thank you so much.” At some point the stage manager comes out of the building and stands near us, but I get rid of him pretty quick. About 5 minutes in I get the brilliant idea to see if the passenger side window is down any further, which it is, and even better, I can wrench it down another inch or so. So we’ve got about 2 1/2 inches of room to work with, and luckily Ted has little girl wrists. He sticks with it though, and it’s 15 minutes later, maybe 20 minutes tops, that he pops the door lock with the coat hanger.
I call Himself and tell him to turn around (luckily he hadn’t made it very far) and tell Ted about ten times that he’s awesome. I’m home by 11:00, which is only maybe half an hour after I’d planned to be home. Not exactly the relaxing Sunday night I had envisioned but it could have been a lot worse. So I’m bringing Ted a 6-pack of Stella today, which will come in extra-handy, since they had a 5-hour music/sound rehearsal today at which I wasn’t needed.
The Cameraphone Diaries 