Doug Paulson

Day 2

I maybe had the easiest first day of any member in the conference, it seems. I woke up around 10:30am to the smell of sausage lofting up from the kitchen where my house mate was preparing biscuits and gravy. One of my favorite meals. I took a long hot shower and headed down to gorge myself. After breakfast I took the initiative to clean up the grill out on the deck and prepare it for the two weeks I have planned of grilling steaks, chicken, ribs and burgers. Oh yes. Beer, whiskey and meat. In the mountains. I am man. Hear me belch.

When my ride showed up around 2pm I drove over to the gym and negotiated a deal with the manager at the front desk for the conference members. She remembered me from last year (helped along by my company name tag we’re encouraged to wear every place we go) and is a fan of the conference. See, everyone in town knows when we show up to do our crazy theater thing. As a result we’re all getting a fifty percent discount on the day-rate to work out while we’re in town. Score. I ran few miles on the treadmill, which is quite a different task in this elevation: 5,000 ft!! I thought I was going to pass out after twenty-five minutes for lack of oxygen, so, I stopped.

After that I did a little shopping. Picked up some groceries for the house and a few essential toiletries I chose not to try to get through airport security. I drove down to Bistro 45 (our unofficial company hang out) and had lunch. So far, a great day, wouldn’t you say?

At 5pm I finally had to be at the theater for our first full company meeting where we were told how things roll for the length of the conference. Rules and regulations. Then the equity members met backstage to elect our deputy, a position I held last year and so volunteered to do again. I’m now responsible for ensuring that all union rules are enforced and all rights afforded union members are met. If anyone has a problem, they bring it to me. I’m the man.

Finally I headed off to my first rehearsal from 7p-10p. It’s a play written by a local high school student as part of their playwriting class, which is taught by one of the board members of the theater that donates the space to the conference. Anyway, in this piece I play a gas station clerk more interested in my game of solitaire than the customers who are stealing Slurpees.

I was the first one back to the house, which I admit was a little creepy. Bering alone in a huge house in the forest with nothing but the sound of the river running through the backyard, with no phone service and no internet is a little unsettling. I was sitting on the couch trying to forget every Friday the 13th movie I’ve ever seen when I noticed our chipmunk friend again in the corner of the living room. This time, he came out to look at me and then bolted up the stairs to the second floor where my bedroom door was left wide open. Fucking great right? All I need is to wake up in the middle of the night to a chipmunk gnawing off one of my big toes hanging over the side of the bed.

I went in search of a broom but found none. I settled for the extension tube to a vacuum cleaner and went around banging every piece of furniture in hopes that it would scuttle out from under something and run back downstairs so I could sleep easy. I was walking down the stairs wielding my vacuum weapon in hand when one of my roommates walked in. I must have looked like an idiot. He asked, laughing hysterically, if I actually thought I was going to get raped or something and I said no, just chipmunk hunting.

Chuckle chuckle. Doug’s afraid of chipmunks. Well, aren’t they like the rats and cockroaches of Idaho? I mean assume they’re not domesticated or anything which to me means disease ridden at ll, so why would I want to sleep with one in the room? I’m convinced he never leaves the house. We’re picking a name. We haven’t decided on Chip, Dale, Avin, Simon or Theodore. I’m pulling for Francisco. Thoughts?