Jealousy and Hookers

I think that my roommate hates me.

Ok.

It�s not really that she *hates* me... it�s just that she�s... well... jealous of me.

It�s not that I�m trained in a ton of different roles in parades.

It�s not that I have the alcohol tolerance of a four-hundred pound biker.

It�s not the fact that I have hundreds of beautiful men falling all over me.

(Insert chuckle here.)

It is, however, the fact that I come waltzing in the door at four thirty in the morning.

Not that fact, in and of itself, is what�s so irritating.

It�s the fact that she has to be awake at 4:30am in order to be to work at 5:30.

Eeek.

Not that I can blame her. I mean, hell, if I had a roommate that walked in the door four nights a week after a long, fun evening of drinking and partying, while I had to be in bed by 10pm so that I could last a long day of work, I�d be jealous, too.

Although, I am a bit jealous that she actually has a full-time job where she gets hours and is living on a decent pay scale.

I, on the other hand, am living on 24.9 hours, or less, each week, simply because Disney has its head up its ass.

*sigh*

Ah... the life of a part-time capped Disney cast member.

I just got off of restrictions from work.

Due to my little fall in parade, the other night, I was placed on restrictions, to give my body a rest.

Ugh.

The doctor decided that because of the mild sprain to my lower back and the strain of my hamstrings, quads, inner thighs and gluts, I was not allowed to lift, push, pull or carry more than 10 pounds, nor bend or twist.

It was actually quite comedic the first day I was placed on restrictions.

After only being allowed to hand out water and towels for day parade at Magic Kingdom, last week, Katrina, who is possibly the stupidest person I have ever met, was trying to decide what I was going to be allowed to do for SpectroMagic, that night.

After realizing that *any* character costume was well over my 10 pound limit, Katrina decided to attempt to make me Hook & Lad... a role that we lovingly refer to as Hookers.

For those of you not familiar, there are many floats in Spectro. There are also some very large hills backstage that the floats cannot climb up and down on their own. Because of this, there are multiple large tractors that have tug ropes to attach to the front and/or back of certain floats to ensure a safe ascent and descent on the hills. It is the responsibility of the Hooker to take the rope from the tractor and place it on the ring of the float.

Pretty fucking easy, right?

Well, because the little tug rope is less than 10 pounds, Katrina decides that I can do the job.

Unfortunately, as I had to point out to her, it is impossible to do the job without repeatedly bending over to hook and unhook the tug rope.

Well, this stupid bitch (and I mean that in the *nicest* way possible) then decides to try how to let me do the job without bending.

But the best part of the whole thing was that she was attempting to do the job, without bending, herself.

So, here�s Katrina, in a pair of silk-esque pants and skanky blouse, squatting down and trying not to bend.

She asked me, �How is your aim?�

�Excuse me?� is all I could muster, with a confused as hell look.

�Well, what if you just hover above the hook with the little loop and then drop it down?�

There is approximately one inch of clearance from the ring on the end of the tug rope and the actual hook on the float. �Yeah... what happens when I miss, Katrina? Do I have to call for a tech, or something?�

�Ok. That�s not going to work, is it?� The dumbfounded look by the other manager, staging specialist and myself confirmed the statement. �Ok. What if we get you a chair?�

�A chair?!?! How is *that* going to help the cause?�

�Well... you can take the rope from the tugger... and then grab the chair and sit down. Then, you can kinda place your hand down and drop the ring.�

Only at Disney do you have managers like this... trying to figure out how to make someone work, when it�s just a total lost cause.

My other day on restrictions, I got to play in character costuming.

It sucked.

At one point, I was covered in so much Donald Duck fur, you couldn�t see my eyes through my glasses, let alone tell that my shirt was forest green.

So... today the doctor told me that I was �all better� and could return to work.

Unfortunately, the role that I was supposed to do in Spectro, tonight, had already been filled. So, in order to get that four hours that I missed, tonight, I called and left a message to pick up day parade, tomorrow.

That call was at 11:30pm.

Now, at 6:00am, after two large jello shots, four Long Island Iced Teas and three beers, I�m wondering why I called to pick up.

I mean, at the beginning of the night, it seemed like a great idea.

But now, when I know that I can get a maximum of six hours of sleep and will more than likely have a mild hangover from all of the mixing of drinks, I�m thinking it wasn�t one of my better plans.

Maybe my dear roomie shouldn�t be so jealous, after all...

later, kids...

~robert