This totally burns my biscuits
My week of sorrow ended on a massively sad note.
I was denied entry to AFI.
On Thursday, I found out that I got to cover the show. I was all yea! and woohoo! and F yes, I get to save some cash!
So, cut to Friday…
I approached the list men at the venue.
I was very nice and chipper because there is nothing worse than a reporter who’s all like “Bow DOWN! I am on the list. Kiss my feet, and my pen of gooolddd.”
So, yeah. I’m ultra nice.
The nice men couldn’t find my name, and asked me to wait until Snicker Rut returned (I totally changed the guy’s name. I bet you couldn’t tell).
When Snicker Rut returned, he said I wasn’t on the list either.
Me” “Oh. Ok. Well, let me call my editor to see what’s up.”
Him: “Or you could just buy a ticket because that wouldn’t take as long”
Me: *Hmmmm. That wasn’t very nice…*
So, I brushed that off, got some advice and asked a few more questions…
Me: “I was told to tell you to try blank’s list, or to get blank.”
Him: “Sorry. This is it.”
Me: “Ok. Well, could they have put it under my editor’s name? Just curious. I know it won’t help.”
Him: “Doesn’t matter. You aren’t getting in.”
*I have now been pushed to limit of patience. I like a shred of respect, at least*
Me: “Ok, man. Geeze. I’m just doing my job.”
So, I left in an angered, and I mean ANGERED fury. I didn’t even buy tickets. I wanted to, but I was so damn mad about being accused of trying to sneak in I just didn’t care.
Anyhow, come to find out an hour later, I was, in fact, on the list. The door dude messed up.
Anyhow. I’m now trying to figure out how I can get more respect from others. I think because I’m naturally quiet, nice, and look relatively young a lot of folks just don’t respect me.
So, what do I do?
I’ve tried the nice route, and that hasn’t done a lot for me.
I really don’t want to try the bitchy route because, well, that’s just stupid.
If I do become a bitch, I could change the name of this blog to Bitch’s Blabs, though.
That would be pretty hilarious.