When I make these magnets, I slap them together on my PC and email them to the office store close to my office. There they use their spooky magicks-with-a-k to print, cut, and laminate the cards. First time I tried this, I sent the magnet cards to another store, and half the lamination peeled off the cards before I got them home. I don't go there no more.
I was saved by an online buddy who told me of this office chain (where he works), and they fixed me up right nice. I've sent four cards to them in the past three years, and I never had a problem.
Today I had a problem. I emailed my card in with my order request. Four hours later, I dropped by during my lunch break. The employee at the desk said she hadn't checked the email and didn't see my order. Then she said it would take too much time to cut and laminate the cards during my hour. She said it would take 20 minutes just to hand cut my 10 cards. I can do it under 20 minutes with scissors. This is my smallest order so far, by the way.
She then said she promised another customer she would make business cards for her, and she had to do this before she left for the day within 30 minutes. Could I come back when I got off work? No, I said, and I canceled the order. She was surprised. She asked if I wanted the cards she had cut (maybe three, none were laminated). I explained I needed all my cards, finished and in hand before I go back to work. This is why I emailed the order four hours ago. And I left.
It's Your Sister's birthday, and I don't want to make the drive -- again -- and get home late. That other customer approached the print station after I did. She had a baby girl, and the two women had bonded since her arrival over maternal stories. The customer was making business cards from scratch at that store. My order was bumped for the mom. That's what pissed me off. It's a small miracle I left without turning into the American Tourister gorilla.
I contacted another of this chain's stores in the area and emailed the cards to them. I asked if they can be done by the time I drive by on my commute, and I was assured they would. I arrived on my way home and was handed my cards, cut and laminated all at the wrong size. They reduced them to business card size for reasons only known to them. Later I rationalized this by saying a one-act play should have a smaller magnet than a full show. Ha-ha, hee-hee, the whispered swearing of blood vengeance.
This will be my first chance to hand a play magnet to the playwright. I will not be derailed by baby-cooers and incompetents.
The last rehearsals are tonight, and my concerns turn inward. Have I prepared them enough? Should I have hammered them on specific delivery? But no, I answer. I can't make them recite lines in my style. I can only wind them up and let them perform. We will have a stronger show than last year's one-act, and I'm content with that standard. If I direct again, I'll know what to do better and quicker.
I still need to write my pre-show speech, but I'll mostly ad-lib and explain the format to the audience. As I type, I don't know if we're playing to 72 people (the maximum) or ten.
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I failed to mention in yesterday's post that I learned of the death of an actor from the community theatre. I've mentioned him here before. In my first show with the group, he and the director went head-to-head over paltry stuff. Much ass was shown. I learned this was not the first time he had done this, and the activity was dominating his reputation. We knew he was ill around Christmas; it was why he couldn't do the Scrooge play. He did try to direct the following play, but his health deteriorated sharply, and he couldn't see it through.
He spent a long time in theatre and acting, and I knew he cared deeply about the arts. The theatre has lost a staunch advocate and volunteer, and his passing shadows over this weekend's debuts. He was awarded a lifetime achievement award in the fall soon after his sickness was divulged. He got to hear the gratitude and congratulations of his fellow actors.
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Your Sis worked late on her birthday, and no one is surprised. She's eager to buy a motorcycle, and I offered a month ago to buy her riding jacket. That still stands. In lieu of another grand present, I declared this week to be a parade of decadent dinners which she labeled a Debacle-nalia. So let it be written, so mote it be.