Today BART had an equipment malfunction which caused delays in the morning commute. Therefore, my usually not crowded 945 train was sardine packed like an early morning commute and I had to stand in the aisle. When we got to my stop, the 6’4″ guy in front of me made no attempt to move to the left, opposite the door, nor did at least two people who were standing DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF THE DOOR have the decency and courtesy to exit the train to allow us to get out.
I was waiting patiently for a lane to open up, when from behind I hear an annoyed voice say, “Excuse me!” So I said in my breath-supported, projected, and resonant singing voice: “COMING OUT! PLEASE GET OUT OF THE WAY!” (It probably had a tiny hint of annoyance/frustration/exasperation in it as well). The 6’4″ guy still made no attempt to move, so I weaved left to go around him. As I was weaving back to the right and trying to figure out which side I would pass those two who were still blocking the door, SOMEONE STUCK OUT THEIR FOOT TO TRY AND TRIP ME! I turned around and immediately saw this rather tall couple staring me down, the woman with a particularly nasty smirk on her face as if saying, “Yeah, that serves you right. You deserved that.” So I immediately turned to the guy she was with and said, “F You,” to which they both responded in kind with their own, “F You.” I exited that train, and in one of my most proudest decisions I’ve ever made, went back to the door and told the woman, “F You b*tch for trying to trip me.”
Now, I actually had no idea who was trying to trip me, but with that smirk I just assumed it was her. But what I really wanted to do was run back in there and shove both of them back into the opposite wall. However, I quickly burned that thought because: 1) all it shows is that I can’t control my temper; 2) I could possibly hurt someone else in the train; 3) I could get arrested for assault; 4) I could get beaten up by a BART mob; 5) it’s just really stupid to actually do something like that.
I walked the 15 minutes to my temp job steaming mad, muttering swear words to myself despite the hilarious podcast (DVDASA – definitely NSFW) I was listening to. I got to my job about 20 minutes early, and I have to pass through the lobby of another company, EVB in order to get to my job on the 3rd floor of the same building. It just so happens that I struck up a conversation with the receptionist at EVB, Mary-Lynn, the first day I worked here back in October. Not only is Mary-Lynn from Chicago, but she also loves opera! So whenever she comes to drop off mail to my job we’ll always talk a little opera. And as a fan, she knows her stuff. She used to have subscriptions to the Chicago Lyric Opera for 20 years and when she moved here she bought a subscription to SF Opera.
My first day on the job, I was studying my Cenerentola score, and she casually joked, “Starving artist eh? What’s your instrument?” When I told her opera, she started talking to me about going to see The Flying Dutchman and Barber of Seville at the SF Opera. (She’s not a huge fan of Rossini, but will go anyway because she loves the production and spectacle that is large-scale, high budget opera houses). Well today as I walked in, still pissed off, I said, “Good morning,” to her, and usually she’ll say, “Good morning,” back to to me. But this day, I noticed her saying something else, so I took off my headphones and went to her desk, as I still had 20 minutes before I started. We started talking about Barber of Seville, and I brought up the name of one of the double cast Almavivas – a tenor named Alek Shrader. Alek had gone through the Merola and Adler programs at the SF Opera, as well as being the subject of the documentary, “The Audition” which is all about the Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions. We then talked about the other tenor, Javier Camarena (I corrected her pronunciation – the francophone in her wanted to call him Zha-vi-ay instead of Ha-vi-air) and then we talked about one of the Rosinas, Isabel Leonard, whom I saw perform in Chicago in a production of “Don Giovanni” by the Chicago Opera Theater.
Well, I looked at the time and saw that I needed to go up to my job, but then also realized that my mood and spirits had definitely brightened. I was no longer mad at the previous incident at the BART station, and was now looking forward to enjoying this Friday and the subsequent caroling gig with The Yuletide Carolers Northern California at the Hyatt Regency at Embarcedero Center. Once again, just thinking and talking about music helped me get over whatever negativity was currently existing in my state of mind.
And that’s why I love what I do…
[Picture: Singing Carmina Burana is like zen meditation for me. I’ll sing it anytime – and for free!]