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March 28, 2007
that was awkward
after my last whiny post, i have gotten lots of encouragement, and some suggestions as well. really, there is nothing for me to do than soldier on into deeper blogospheric territory, leaving the false comforts of Not Posting At All behind.
i'm thinking that a big part of my hibernating bloggy mojo has to do with my poor recognition of bloggable topics. when i tell the story of how my sister made up something called "The Lexicon of Filth" during our childhood as a guide to know what words to avoid saying around our parents, people shriek "you should blog about this!!!!!" or when i talk about the absolute weirdest thing i've ever seen anyone do while driving on a Los Angeles freeway, i am told "you must blog that!" blog-paragon-of-daily-posting-faithfulness (how DOES he do it?)-blogger Pauly D recommends that i write about "people who insist the black spot in between their teeth is food, when in reality it's a space." see, this is a topic that i would never in a million years think to write about. but he would, and does, and also makes it hilarious.
now, i've never had anyone insist to me that the black spot in between their teeth is food and not an unfixable dental issue, so i can't really speak with any authority on that topic. but i HAVE had a lot of weird things insisted to me (is that a real verb?) in the course of my job, namely, putting my hand up people's shirts. being an audio mixer, one of my many tasks is to quickly and discreetly place small microphones on people who will appear on-camera. i can say with modest certainty that i am very good at being both quick and discreet, and i even am able to often avoid the whole hand-up-your-shirt thing. alas, not all miking jobs are so easy; often i must navigate slinky evening gowns or very tight pants or other such difficult outfits. this is when i, heretofore a stranger to you, must put my hands in strange places and be within inches of your face. i'm very professional, like a doctor, but people still get all voluble and suddenly tell me rather personal things.
my theory is that, like a manicurist or hair stylist or aesthetician or even the aforementioned doctor, when faced with someone whose job forces them to touch you, an artificial intimacy arises. i honestly think that if psychologists also got massage licences, they'd make much more progress with their clients. not that i can picture our counselor giving me a shoulder rub, but still.
anyway, here is a partial list of things insisted to me (i'm using it as a verb anyway!) over the course of my career. remember, most of these things were said with me being in Extremely Close Proximity to the speaker, thus only increasing the uncomfortable factor...
- "wow, your hands are cold!" (me: "sorry.") "oh that's okay, i'm used to it; i used to work in a morgue."
- "i know my body odor is pretty strong. if you have to hold your breath, that's okay. it's from all the anchovies that i eat."
- "hey, by the way, my breasts are real. (they weren't.) no really, they are. most people don't think they are, but my breasts are totally real. like yours!"
- (says something i don't hear) (me: "sorry, could you repeat that?") "no problem, i have to repeat myself all the time since my *^#*%$ husband never listens to me, that rat *^%$%$#."
- "go ahead and do whatever you need to do; i'm used to total strangers touching my boobs."
- "hey, do you have kids? (me: "uh, no.") "well don't, because not only have i totally lost my figure, but they also drive me crazy. i wish i'd never had 'em. i'm thinking i should send 'em off to boarding school. would that be a good idea?"
- "i can't take off this necklace; if i do, it might set the ancient curses in motion, and we could all get really hurt. seriously."
- "i know you're wondering why i don't shave my pits. everybody wonders that. well, it's not because my boyfriend asked me not to. i was going to stop anyway. i mean, European women don't shave, right?"
- "don't put that thing (the mic transmitter) in that pocket; i keep my dime bag in there."
- "i'm only going to be heard when i'm on set, right? because i'm going to be hitting the bottle a lot tonight. i'm probably already drunk."
- "sorry about all the chest hair. if i get it waxed, do you think people will know that i'm gay? wow, i've never really told anyone that before."
if there was a thought bubble above my head, like in a comic strip, it would constantly read "Well, That Was Awkward." remember, this is only a sampling, and deliberately does not include the loads of racist, sexist, and off-color comments i've been privy to. so no, nobody's told me their tooth gap is actually food as of yet, but i wouldn't be surprised to hear it sooner than later...
Posted by hadashi at March 28, 2007 5:06 PM
Comments
Wow.
I wish I had that job. Especially with the people who insist their breasts are real.
Good job!
Posted by: Pauly D 
at March 28, 2007 8:24 PM
oh! i'm so glad you're back. maybe the next time you're putting mic on someone you should put some nori on your teeth and ask them "do i have food between my teeth?"
Posted by: poopymonkeyfish at April 2, 2007 4:11 PM
props from Pauly D! wow! thanks for the inspiration...
a great idea, poopymonkeyfish. especially because it implies the eating of something yummy involving nori.
Posted by: hadashi at April 3, 2007 9:45 PM
HA! HA! HA-HA! This entry convinces me that when you one day have chillens and take some time off from lugging outlandishly heavy equipment around you'll have to write a memoir called Lady Sound Guy. Instant classic!
Posted by: ernli at May 21, 2007 2:12 PM
love the title. would you ghostwrite for me? :)
Posted by: hadashi at June 9, 2007 12:28 PM
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