I'm home: it's Sunday, and it was raining in Saratoga

22 September, 2002 || 8:00 pm

What's this? A Sunday, at 8:00, and I'm not in Saratoga? Exactly.

I leave the library, we go get my garndmother, we drive to Saratoga. We arrive at Skidmore. Time: 5:20 pm. We are told by Ms. Stickupherass lady that, because there was no power, rehearsal will be over at 6:45, instead of 8:30. I go inside, find the viola section, sit down. Time: 5:25 pm. We all get our violas out, tune, make small-talk. Mrs. Joseph comes over and tells us the security people say there's a fire hazard, and we all need to leave the building. I pack up my crap and go stand outside. Time: 5:30 pm. I sit outside, on my viola case. Cars pull up, kids get in. I ask a french horn player if she has a watch. Time: 5:50 pm. I stay there, sitting on the damn viola case, waiting for my parents. It is cold, and begins to rain. An adult asks me if I have a ride coming. All of the other children are gone, in their cars with their parents. Finally, my dad's car pulls up. Time: 6:50 pm. I go to open the trunk. It won't open. I stand there for a second, my dad is staring back at me. I figure he knows to pop the trunk. He doesn't. I knock on the back window, point to the trunk. It opens, I throw the viola in. I sit down in the car. I get yelled at for not calling on the cell phone. And then yelled at again for not remembering the cell phone. And then yelled at for not calling Eileen and having her call the cell phone.

Well excuuuse me.

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