I’m minding my business, or should I say, minding the business I never signed up to mind. I only wanted to make some giant paintings, not babysit children in costumes in a crampt dark space behind a rickety black wall on stage left. The job forced upon me in a moments notice was less than simple: move furniture onstage, take furniture offstage, tape microphones to kids necks, find missing props, fix costumes, shush children too old to be shushed, teach teenagers how to do the dance they’ve been practicing for months backstage as the production is going on. Originally I only planned to be on set design for a fun side project, but oh boy they didn’t care. enter 12 year old ginger, with the smallest possible roll in this already small play. He has made it his personal goal to Ruin Everything. Child breaks a prop “Hey don’t do that” “You are literally not my mom shut up kill yourself” Child stands in full view of the audience when backstage “Hey don’t do that” “Why can you tell me what to do why can’t I stand here I’m just doing what other people were doing shut up” Child is in my way “Hey move I need to be onstage” “SHES PUSHING ME” Child is too loud “Quiet everyone, they can hear you back here” “I don’t have to be quiet you *notbungieapprovedword*” Child spills massive amount of Gatorade on carpet “Here’s some paper towel” “I’m not cleaning it he made me spill it he pushed me I’m not cleaning it you do it you’re the crew” Child asks me why he doesn’t get a microphone “The mics are for the characters with the most lines” “I’m important too I’m the guy in the bar I have five lines I should have a mic I’m gonna tell the director you’re not giving me one” I just wanted to make some big paintings man. Big paintings. That’s my thing. That’s all I needed. Big paintings