Post-mortem in Boredoms

So, it’s done. The show is over. I was delighted to see a friend I didn’t know for sure was going to come was able to for my last night. We struck the set right after and it only took us about 90 minutes to tear the sucker down. It helped that we had a big cast a good deal of crew helping out. By the end there were only 6 cast members left to load the dismantled pieces onto trucks to be carried back to the school. I wasn’t able to help with unloading the trucks because my stomach was acting up pretty good by the end. A few of the St. Martin’s folks assured me that they’d want to have me in shows again in the future and that made me happy. I definitely want to do this as much as I can. It feels good to be back in it.

On a weird note, one of the cast members told me that one of her friends wanted to “bang” me. I took that with my usual degree of awkwardness, pulling my jacket up around my face to hide my embarrassment. Fortunately, the topic changed quickly enough that I didn’t have to respond. How do I respond to that without going into my whole “why nobody should have anything to do with me romantically or sexually” spiel? It was oddly flattering to hear, though.

One of my roommates suggested I get on some dating sites/apps. Like Tinder. Seriously? The impression I got from that thing is that people look at a picture (or pictures?) and decide whether they think you’re hot enough to want to bother with. That would be a gutting experience for me. Who the shit would pick my decidedly unimpressive face? I quit the whole dating site thing. I couldn’t even get a response from anybody. I’m not the kind of person who sends shitty messages or just short things like “Hey” or anything. I take the time to look through someone’s profile and craft my messages based on aspects of their profile to talk about. I have to assume the people I message take a look at my profile and just go “Ew, no.”