Drama Bitches

Last night I went to volunteer at my local pro-choice organization. I love it there. Those women are so fantastic; they are so smart and passionate. After stuffing envelopes for a few hours, I stopped by a bar on W. 4th Street to see a school friend. I got some soup and chatted with him about plays, books and had a good time. Then some more of his friends stopped by.

These friends were Drama Bitches. The Drama Bitches pretended to be glad to see me, even seemed to invite me to the next stop on their whirlwind Drama Bitch tour which was so close to my apartment that I acquiesced. When we arrived, however, I felt quite unwelcome. I also felt absolute certainty that I would be talked about, outfit and all, as soon as I was out the door (or in the bathroom, for that matter). It was ridiculous. Ridiculous as in all of us deserved ridicule: me for being there, and them for being that way. It reminded me that I can hate theater people as much as I love theater people.

By the way, I looked pretty cute, so I have no idea what those Drama Bitches said after I left. Ignorance is, in some cases, bliss.