Tourture

Whew, man, I’m tired. I feel like I start 3/4 of my entries on here by saying I’m tired. (The other 1/4 is probably drunk poetry) I need to write a couple work things. Grad school starts Monday. I’m nervous. I did a tour tonight with the only lady tour guide. She’s really good at it, maybe the best, but jesus christ she’s demanding. Like… way more specific and demanding than any of the other guides. Never have I ever in my life felt more like a literal servant than I do when I’m working for her. She basically wants her assistants to be neither seen nor heard. She doesn’t want them being at all distracting or taking the attention away from her. She wants everything set up in advance, everything handed to her at just the right moment and taken away immediately when she’s done. She has very specific instructions about where you should stand. Like… for each stop.  Never have I ever in my life. The night starts ((in the box)) with her telling me all of it, and me just trying to hold it all in my brain, and getting the equipment ready. I found out that my rival had done a very poor job for her and she was much displeased, so I was determined to prove I was better than him. We get to the first stop where I have to go ahead and set up the dvd player, and I realize I don’t have the fucking remote. I thought it was in the bag but it wasn’t there. I’m like half panicking because she specifically said she wanted it (most of the guides don’t even bother using it, they just push the button) and I’m supposed to be done and standing in my Quiet Cornerâ„¢ by the time she gets there, but I also like… need to tell her I apparently fucked it up. So I just hang around all nervous until she gets there, and then I tell her I don’t have it and she gives me this look of pure annoyance, disappointment, disgust?? that just… cuts right to my guts. And because I’m me and not someone different my knees go weak and I find myself suddenly having to put considerable effort into Being A Person. She tells me to go get it and I literally run back to ((the box)) and use my freshly acquired door code privileges to get in, grab a remote, (they are all the same and work universally) and run out. I get back before she’s even at the part of the story where she needs it, and I slink up all quiet style to put it in the right spot but before I can get back to my Quiet Cornerâ„¢ she makes a joke about it in front of the whole tour group, like she was going to fire me, “It’s so hard to get good help these days” and in my brain I’m like LOL. R.I.P. but since she already brought attention to me I decide to break from trying to be neither seen nor heard and I make an exaggerated, dramatic apology that gets a smile from her and a pretty big laugh from the group. And the tour moves on. I execute everything else perfectly. I do A+ above and beyond flashlight work. It ends, we head back to ((the box)). I apologize for realz for fucking up, and she says it’s cool, that I did very well overall. But she’s confused about where her remote actually is, because I just grabbed the first one I saw and there were only two and should have been three. I see a rectangle shape in her pocket and I’m like… “Is it in your pocket?” And of course it fucking is. Jesus Christ, I almost died about this stupid remote and it was in her fucking pocket the whole time oh my god. Like it was still technically my bad, because it’s my job to know where everything is before we go out, but oh my god. She had it. In. Her. Pocket. R.I.P. 

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