Bitch.
Yesterday was a bitch. Things just felt off. Not just for me, for the entire cast!
An actor’s uncle died. An actor’s car was broken in to. An actor’s neck is in pain. An actor’s ankle is twisted. My stage-girlfriend went home sick, thus our dance sequences have been cut from the opening and closing of the show.
On top of everything, thanks to an article in the February edition of Mpls/St. Paul magazine, I just found out that the dog in the show is making $750 a week!
That figure alone is enough to scratch your head at, but consider this: I’m making $100. Not $100 a week. Not $100 a show. $100 for the entire run of the show. At 70 performances, that roughly breaks down to $1.43 a show for me. How much money have I made so far: $4.29. Nice!
Not including rehearsals, which the dog is also paid for, how much has he made: $1,500. By the end of the run of our show, the dog will have made nearly $12,000. Does the Guthrie know that dogs have no value of money? And that dogs don’t have mortgage payments to make or bill collectors calling them…because dogs also don’t have phones?
Is it just me, or is there something wrong with those figures?
So if we were to put a dollar amount on my life, I would be less than a dog?
Humans are still at the top of the food chain, right?
