Sunday, September 15, 2013

I always wanted to be an air hostess & other myths
Last night was the opening party for the season at the fancy gym. I arrived on time despite a good amount of traffic, only to find out that I was late. This happens a lot. My boss Giacomo told me to come around eight and when I got there, I found the whole gym deserted. Except it wasn't. This happens a lot. In the sense that I think I know what the heck is going on. But I don't. Actually when F pulled the car up to the front door I asked him where he thought everybody was and he said, "They are probably out back." "Doing what?," I asked. "Talking smack about you," he replied and proceded to laugh so hard that he almost coughed up a lung. That was so funny, in fact, that even I had to laugh. Except then, of course, it turned out to be true. I went out back behind the gym and I found all my coworkers, about 75 in total, eating pizza and looking at me like they had just spend two hours setting up the party without me and thus eating a well deserved pizza. I was wearing the require white button up blouse, jeans, and high heels and I went to the trouble of getting my hair done for two hours beforehand. This was a lot of effort lost on my still sweaty and sweatsuit wearing comrades, as you could well imagine. I would have come earlier and helped, but nobody told me. At least you believe me, right?

It happened kind of organically, in that the staff who were around that afternoon got together and worked and nobody told me until it was too late. I felt better after I heard that my new friend Patrizia was told to get there earlier only to find 65 people engaged in moving about four tables, and ended up reading her book for four hours. Anyway, I was on the outs. This continued on into the night as we were awarded our special accessory which turned out to be a piece of shiny orange material to wear as a neck tie. Mine was doubled in bulke so instead of looking like a playmate I looked like someone wearing a weird lobster bib to a seafood dinner. Luckily Claudia intervened and made me look like everyone else. Minus the the fake tits, the perfect thighs, the tall frame, and the tanned skin. Sabotage? Who knows. It was thwarted in any event.




 

In theory, I should have been manning the stand where the fitness teachers were supposed to answer questions that clients might have about our course offerings, but when I saw Stefania and Ginetta already filling the rather tiny stand, I thought twice about trying to fight them for the clients' attention. I went upstairs where there were video screens, and a real plexiglass cube filled with fire, a dj booth and a smoke machine amongst other offerings. Oddly, there were no clients. Unfortunately for us, this didn't change terribly much as the night went on. Luckily my friends Serena and Bianca showed up and so I hosted them around and we decided to dance. Dancing was the best way to interact with clients because the music was too damn loud to actually do any talking in any case. Unfortunately, the zumba zombies only want to do the prescribed steps to the accompanying songs and since I don't know the steps I always just make up my own moves. Little did I know that Lucca is like the Italian version of Footloose in which creativity is sneared upon. Literally. I was happy to leave at 11 pm since we only made it home after the traffic jam and the difficult time finding parking by midnight because I knew I had to find the energy to teach the next morning. I have since come to find out that each teacher was introduced to the crowd individually and the powers that be were none too pleased that I wasn't there when they called my name. Oh well, sleep happens.


These photos are from the setting up and procession of Santa Croce. I stood outside for two hours being shoved by tourists waiting for this client of mine named Ilaria who told me she wanted me to see her sing with her parish. She was way at the end and I was about to topple over, but it is a very sweet night of togetherness in our teeny city.






I have a weird life, right?

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