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Barry Louis Polisar's avatar

My story is a bit outside the parameters requested, but since it was a minor win over absurdity, I will recount it here. In the early days of my singing career. I had a request to do a show at a rather prestigious corporate performance space which I didn’t want to do. I quoted an absurdly high fee and was surprised when the booking agent for the venue approved the amount and confirmed the show.

I arrived at the theatre a month later and was told that before I could enter the space, I needed to to sign a statement saying I had read the rule book and would abide by the company’s policies. I told the theatre manager that I was not an employee but a contractor hired to put on a concert and had never been given a rule book. I was told I would not be allowed to perform unless I signed the statement saying I had read the rulebook and would abide by the rules. I asked for a copy of the rule book which was about 200 pages long. One of the first rules was that no one hired by the company could have facial hair. I had a full beard at the time.

So I asked for a pen and added a few choice words to the legal forms I was required to sign, changing the wording to "has NOT read the rulebook” and "will NOT follow all rules and policies.” My signature on the form was obviously all that was needed to enter and present my show.

Before you tell me I won, I entered the hall and began to get ready for the concert…when the theatre manager informed me that I was not going to perform on the beautifully elaborate stage with the plush velvet curtains and wonderful lighting, but had in fact been hired to perform for the patrons who were entering the theatre as they went by in line. Since my songs are largely narrative, it didn't make sense to sing those as people walked by and would only hear a line or two....so I did my ten minute set--how long does it take for someone to enter a theatre--as an instrumentalist, took my check, and drove home.

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Dale of Green Gables's avatar

Observatory. It's staring us right in the face: Mike Johnson (not his real name) is an alien. He apparently landed in Louisiana and assumed all that stuff he's learned there ever since will allow him to pass as an American earthling. Another thing. That Fig Bistro in Cville at which Dear Leader looked forward to dining is identified as "Women-Owned." Have to say I was (naively ?) surprised to see that designation in this day and age. But a bit of research led me to the knowledge that it is, in fact, an official designation used by government agencies and industry groups for special programs to encourage female business ownership and actual day-to-day management of an owned-business, in particular. The "Fig" also calls itself "vegetarian friendly." What exactly does that mean ? You identify yourself as a vegetarian, you're given a hug and then offered a salad ? I probably need to get out more.

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