Freelancing in technical theater means you’re on a lot of different email lists. People need a crew, they send out an email, you respond with your availability. Now, most people start these with things like “hey folks” or “hi everyone”. Neal is not most people.
His openers started off innocent enough.
Then, he started to push boundaries.
And as you can see, it has spiraled out of control since then.
Tag yourselves. I’m the anteater in a suit who thinks he can pass.
THEY JUST KEEP COMING
He’s even witty in real time.
Neal is a hecking gift.
Neal needs to write white cards for cards against humanity
“If you have to ask whether you’re in the Good Parlor…you aren’t.”
Somebody describe these parlors to me.
Because maybe it’s obvious and the Good Parlor is the one with the really comfy chairs with gilded armrests and the cool knicknacks to look at, and the You’re Not Special Parlor has chairs that look awesome but are uncomfortable as shit to actually sit in and the lampshades are slightly askew so when you’re sitting in your uncomfortable chair you also have the light shining in your eyes and the statuettes on the tea table are eyeing you dubiously, and the Fuck Off Parlor has chairs that stab you with springs on purpose and shadows keenly engineered to hide a table at prime shin-barking height and that picture is sure as shit following you with its eyes and there’s an hourglass that somehow feels like it will set an ancient and dire curse on you if you’re not gone before it runs out.
Or maybe they’re just three different exquisitely-appointed parlors and there’s nothing distinctly Good or Fuck Off about them but one day you’re led to a different parlor than the one you’ve become used to and you are on absolute tenterhooks trying to figure out if you’ve been promoted or added to the Shit List.
my irl house has only one parlor but it becomes the good parlor if barb stops playing wii long enough to make eye contact
So I just went with my buddy while he got a rib tattoo, and they hurt like a lot, so he’s over there grimacing and being a huge manbaby so I just reach over and grab his hand so he can squeeze it because I’m a good person who helps others
And he’s clinging to my hand like it’s a life preserver and I’m being me and talking about nonsense like Grimace from the McDonalds commercials and how R2D2 is always ready to throw hands, and whatever, and the artist keeps glancing over at me and I’m like do your tattoo bro I’ve got my buddy handled
But then I realize he’s like, looking over because he can’t tell if he’s seeing something or not, and I glance down and I see my rainbow scalemail bracelet, and how I’m talking to my buddy all fondly and I’m like stroking his arm like he’s a wounded animal, and right as it clicks in my head the tattoo artist asks in his most nonchalant voice possible, like intentionally bland, I’m just talking about the weather haha what do you mean voice:
“So, are you guys close?”
And my gay ass is over to the side internally screaming because yeah, I am gay, but like this is just me being a good bro and my buddy is COMPLETELY OBLVIOUS TO WHAT IS HAPPENING BECAUSE HE’S A GARBAGE STRAIGHT PERSON AND HE SAYS
“Yeah of course, that’s why I asked him to come”
SO NOW THE TATTOO ARTIST THINKS HE’S RIGHT AND HE HAS A GAY COUPLE GETTING A TATTOO AND MY BUDDY HAS NO IDEA AND I’M AWKWARDLY SITTING HERE LIKE SHOULD I STOP HOLDING HIS HAND??? SHOULD I CORRECT THIS TATTOO ARTIST??? SHOULD I LET MY BUDDY KNOW??? MY GAY ASS DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO HANDLE BEING INCORRECTLY ACCUSED OF BEING GAY, WHAT DO YOU DO
So that tattoo artist is like “Cool man, that’s great. Good for you.”
So then my buddy is like can I get some water, and the guy comes back with one bottle of water and my buddy takes a drink and then hands it to me, and I’m like obviously he has to lay down and needs me to hold his water so I just hold it in my hand, but turns out he was offering me water, so he turns to me and is like Colton, drink some water, and I take a drink and my garbage lizard brain is like “You’re drink sharing in front of the tattoo artist, now he KNOWS he’s right”
So we’re talking about tattoos with the artist and I mention that I’m getting a tattoo in September and my buddy is like “Yeah I’m gonna go and hold HIS hand for that one haha” and the tattoo artist FUCKING SAYS “I mean, I should hope so”
I MEAN, I SHOULD HOPE SO
I MEAN, I SHOULD HOPE SO
AND NO ONE ACTUALLY BROUGHT IT UP. I KNEW WHAT THE TATTOO ARTIST WAS THINKING BUT DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING TO CORRECT HIM. NOW WHEN MY BUDDY GOES BACK AND GETS HIS NEXT TATTOO IN THE FUTURE AND I’M NOT THERE HE’S GOING TO GO “OH WHERE’S YOUR BOYFRIEND”
i'll apple your turnover 