An Honest Living

I have been meaning to address this for a long while.

It's a pride issue.
It makes an anger-bubble pop up inside me, on the subway, on a run, in the grocery store.
I gently put my finger up and end its life with a they-don't-know-any-better.

Maybe it is my job to let them know better.

Instead of harboring ill will. Instead of keeping the self-worth in an easy to reach a place where I can defend and coddle it. Instead, maybe it's best for them to learn a little lesson.  It's okay to make them feel humbled, uneducated, and ashamed for being....well....rude.

Here is the plain and simple truth: people sometimes need to work more than one job.  Not only people in the arts, but also people who are looking to improve the world through political action, or people who are school teachers, or people who, as lawyers, work pro bono for causes that help change lives for the greater good.  In many walks of life, it is possible that a second job is needed.

This second, or third, or even forth job should not diminish a person's view of another person's worth.

I live in New York City.  My last apartment cost me $1200 a month.
For a bedroom.
In a shared apartment.
Above a dive bar.
That was falling apart.

This is not a crazy NYC story. This is what may be considered a good deal by a few people.
Still, it's a lot of money.

A common rule of thumb is that a person's rent should equal one forth of their salary.  As a working actor, this can be an impossibility.  For instance: A Tier One Equity Contract pays $625 dollars per week for a "midsized" theater (that is a theater with 699 seats or less).  To give a little perspective on this, the New York Public Theater's biggest indoor space, the Newman, only seats up to 299.
Let me do the math for you: If my rent is $1200, and I got a dream role of performing at The Public Theater, I would only have $1300 left to pay for utilities, food, and fun.  Forget about having a savings. Also, keep in mind that my neighborhood grocery store sells cereal for $6 a box.  Nothing in New York City is cheep.   The crowded, smelly, filled with crazy people subway is $2.75 a ride.  My $20 metro card always runs out in a surprising amount of time.

Money, money, money.

Currently, I am a full time performer.  I love my performance job.  I also love teaching comedy.  I truly love it, and feel lucky that I get to do two things that fill my meager bank account.

I have tended bar off and on for years.  I have made many friends through working behind the stick, and I even met my husband while behind the bar.  When I was on a solo tour making $50,000 a year, I actually missed bartending. Did I miss the late nights or serving the occasional mean customer?  Of course not.  I missed the money.  Honestly, I almost went into debt on that tour.  It simply was not enough money for a person like me to live in New York City. (Disclaimer: you can live in certain neighborhoods on that salary.  I enjoy living in Brooklyn near many trains, and I also love taking advantage of what the city has to offer: restaurants, theater, other fun adventures.)

Point being, if I have not seen you for a while, and you ask how I am doing and I say "Great!" and then you say "Are you still doing the whole acting thing?" and I say "Of course, I mean, what else would I be doing?" and you answer "Oh, well, are you still bartending?" or "Are you getting paid for it?" or the absolute worst, "Did you find a husband who can support you while you do this?" I think you are being rude, and I automatically become defensive.

Incredibly talented, beautiful, successful people work in the service industry. I have such respect for professional bartenders and waiters.  They have the patience that I cannot possibly match.  They should be proud that they are good enough at what they do to go into a shift with a smile, not get flustered by the events of the evening, serve with pride, and then do it all over again.

Incredibly talented, beautiful, successful people work as actors (or in other fields), and fill in the gaps to live a more fulfilling life by working a few shifts.  This does not mean that they are not successful. It means that they are making an honest living working hard to live in this impossible city.  Do not think less of them.  Do not judge them poorly.  Instead, praise their work ethic.  Go to one of their shows.  Speak about them with respect.  Instead of phrasing it "Well, he's out there doing his thing, but he is still waiting tables," why not say "He just did a stand-up set at the Comedy Cellar and is beginning rehearsals for 'Winter's Tale."

A good rule of thumb, speak about your friends and family in a way that they would represent themselves.

Let us not pity the actor, the teacher with the summer job, or the political activist.  They want to make this world a more fantastic place by bringing beauty, human rights, and passion to everyday life.  Sometimes, they just want a little more money to pay the bills.

You can't trust a girl who smiles

I grew up with the idea that there is good in everyone.  It may be hard to find, but if you search down deep enough, you'll find the good. 

I have wanted to believe this my whole life.  I have tried to dredge up the good.  To drill down deep through the shallow surface, the mud, the clay, the core.  To point out when the bad guy showed his good side.  To believe that the broken part in the bully was not put there at birth.  They were not born damaged.  They were born sweet and loving and full of light.  Something happened.  Something changed.  A slip and fall and punch in the face and the good hid inside where no one could find it.  But me.  I could find it, if I tried.

I don't know if I can believe this anymore.  It hurts the innocent part of me: the part that wants to breath clean air.

I  have had many jobs.  Most of my jobs have been either customer service or team related.  When I am on stage, I am working as a team.  Fortunately, I like actors.  Any good actor is honest before anything else.  I can see the goodness as soon as they walk under the lights.  We may fight.  We may have differences.  But I know who you are, co-worker, and chances are, I like you a lot.

This is not about you. This is about the side work, the day job, the necessary evil.
The customer.

I have done sales.  Tending bar is sales, being a toy demonstrator is sales, being a promotional model is sales....I could go on and on with examples of sales jobs and my past jobs.....

People demand special treatment.  They aren't special.  Some of them have money....a lot of money.  Some of them are poor.  They feel entitled, the rich and the poor alike.  They ask if I can lower they price or if they can get the second one free.  They are insulted.  They say loudly that "she is ripping me off" and "don't talk to her, what's wrong with you?"

I am just standing there.  Alone.  I am behind a bar.  I am demonstrating a magic toy.  I am giving away a sample.  I am just doing my job.  I am a good person who is trying  to make a buck and do right by my boss.  I am not pushy.  I don't up sell or down sell.  I let things sell themselves. I am smiling and you are mean.

Someone must have hurt you.  They have made you feel like you can't trust a girl who smiles. 

I have been hurt too.  I don't need you to know about that.  There is sludge below the surface and broken parts.  It's none of your business.  My business is to smile and do a good job.  It's not the hardest thing in the world.

What is hard is being treated like I am less than you.  My fellow bartenders are smart, beautiful, creative, people who I am proud to know.  They have more compassion and drive than the average person.  They are brave.  I don't necessarily know my other co-workers....my other day jobs have been fleeting or solo.  Let's assume those people are great.

Lets assume it is not kind to make fun of someone's job.
It's not nice to talk about us like we can't hear you.
You are still a bully, after all of these years.

Disclaimer: Nothing terrible has happened.  Today has been a great day.....other than losing my voice.  I have simply wanted to address this human unkindness for a while, and being non-verbal today has freed up some time. 

Just be nice.