Friday, February 20, 2009

Little Weasel

So. It's been five days since the show closed and still no money. No money. Which is, coincidentally, the amount that we have in the bank. I called the producer (hereafter referred to as The Weasel) and asked how things were coming along. He responded that he had sold some stock and it had to clear and get transferred and then he would write me a check and mail it sometime next week.

This is after I was always on time and always got not only my job done, but also covered for his inept lighting designer a fair amount. To add insult to injury I was only charging him a third of my usual rate for theater. I never have this much trouble getting paid, contract or no. Even high schools can get the rusty wheels over in accounts to turn enough to hand me a check on closing night. He won't even hand me a back dated check.

So I didn't work a minute of overtime for two weeks and spent close to $300 on gas and other expenses to do his show. Read my post called "Still Alive" to hear about my schedule those two weeks. My kids don't know who they guy with the beard is anymore. Now I have two bank accounts with negative balances and a grand total of three dollars cash money until I get paid for the show.

After I explained as much to him and asked for even a couple hundred so we can buy groceries he said he couldn't do anything. Fed up, The Missus gave him a call and got into irate pregnant lady mode with him. After fifteen minutes of haranguing it turns out that he has enough on hand to pay me but just isn't. Apparently he needs that money to sleep on so his delicate princess ass doesn't get bruised and can only afford to part with some stocks.

So when he does finally cut me a check and I go to pick it up at his office I'll be providing him with the following advice about future work:

"If you ever need a sound guy again, don't hesitate to find a very small hole in the wall and FUCK YOURSELF into it! Hope you fall in a bucket of AIDS... prick."

Subscribe in a reader Subscribe in a reader

1 comment:

  1. There's a line from a song that goes a little something like this:

    stupid, dumb shit, g*d damn, motherfucker.

    And that is an accurate assessment of this little lying bastard.


Keep it clean...