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Arsenic & Old Lace. The bane, well one of them anyway, of my existence right now. Its a show being done at Southside High School on Long Island. A place that pays me a good deal of money for not a lot of work. Or so it would seem.
The kids there…Could. Drive. A. Person. To. Drink.
I don’t remember being as miserable and discontent as these kids are. These chitlins have the attention spans of gnats, and really my idea of a good time is not sticking needles through my eyelids, and that is exactly what ‘teaching’ these little rascals about theatre feels like.
It could be where I am from, (re: The sticks) but it was not common practice, to tell your elder, teacher, substitute, guest from the outside world, mother, father, whomever in the room that was supposed to be an authority figure to kindly go ‘f*ck off’. For these scallywags here in Rockville Centre, oh boy is it ever common. Whats worse you ask? The teacher(s) laugh it off, like its ok!!!
This is NOT ok.
Or is it? Has something shifted in the core values that greatly in the almost 5 years since I’ve been out of high school or is it just in this isolated area.
Because really, the needles in my eye lids. They, freakin’ hurt.
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