By Grant Haase
I must admit, I have never contributed to anything before. Well, I’ve contributed to the increase in my weight, but I don’t think that really counts. That being said, I have no idea what to do for my first piece. I thought maybe I’ll do something about my dreams and aspirations, but that didn’t seem right. Then I thought about doing a research piece exposing you readers to some (hopefully) new trivial factoid. Like how January 8, 1835 is the only day in history that the USA had no national debt. Oh! Or, how one in ten European babies is conceived in an IKEA bed! But that didn’t seem right either. How about I tell you a little anecdote from when I was touring? That seems like a lovely idea! Nothing will introduce you to me as a person better than a little anecdote (next time, I’ll have something a little more insightful).
So, I was going to order a pizza, but I decided I should really save money, and heated up one of those pre-bowled soups I had with me. I start eating it and it tastes kind of funny. I look at the label and it's, somehow, a month expired? I didn't know soup could do that, but I guess it can. So, whatever, right? I'll just heat a different one. I go to dispose of the leftover soup and, without even thinking, I pour it into the hotel sink. Well, crap, it's not draining. I think, okay not a big deal, I'll just get the water going to help it flow. NOPE. It stays clogged and looks like an awful mess (it was tomato bisque). It looked like an episode of Dexter was filmed in the bathroom. So I'm digging around the drain for any bits of tomato, the sink is getting stained, my hands are getting stained, and I'm freaking out that I broke the hotel sink; because the last thing I want to do after a full day of performing in hot costumes is have a cranky maintenance guy standing in the bathroom at 10 at night while I’m in nothing but my t-shirt and a smile. I try jiggering the stopper, seeing if that will loosen the clog. Guess what? NOPE! I remove it and still nothing. In a panic, I grab the soup bowl and start ladling the slop into the toilet. I suddenly realized that I HAVE A KNIFE!! I leap across the room, grab it, and start stabbing it down the drain with a fury that hell hath no, and FINALLY it starts going down. Well now there is chunky, red soup water in the toilet, the sink is stained, my hands are stained, and I'm left with this void in my person.
Moral of the story: If pizza is your first instinct, FOLLOW IT.
Huh… I guess that was a pretty insightful moral. I’m so good. You know what? I’ve EARNED that pizza tonight. Excuse me.