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Name:Anju
Location:Purdue, University, United States

I have a need for coffee with my oxygen.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Today I had a phone call from a person who donates money to my office. She is a supporter of the arts and I guess didn't understand how the donations work.
Here is how it works:
You (the average person with more money than they know what to do with) donates money to us (the organization that brings you such shows as Cats and Fiddler on the Roof) and we (same org.) give you nice tickets for the shows listed above. The more money you give, the closer you get to the stage, and for those few individuals that chop off their right arm to donate, we'll let you even touch the actors.

It's the people that donate 50 bucks that I have the most problems with. Mr. 10,000 dollar donor is fine sitting in the back of the auditorium and using binoculars to view the opera, in fact, he prefers it. Mrs. 50 dollar donor expects front row seating with champagne and shad roe served to her on a silver platter.

Ugh, I hate self absorbed people.

So Mrs. 50 dollar donor calls today and she wants priority seating for our show Berenstain Bears on Stage! (of all the lame shows to get priority seating on). Priority seating is something we do for our "friends" and in exchange they give us absorbent amounts of money. This is always done around June and everyone is told the deadline in which you need to have ordered your tickets to get the special seating. After that, you are Joe Shmoe when it comes to seating.

I explained that to her in a much more diplomatic way and she didn't seem to get it. She explained to me, in a very breathy voice that sounded like she sat around all day in satin eating Godiva chocolates, that she donates a lot of money every year (50 dollars, I checked while she was talking) and that she wants her little grandchild to have the closest seating possible. So I told her she could sit middle of the auditorium to the back or in the balcony.

She replied with, "So some person off the street could buy the tickets next to me if they wanted right?" I replied with a "Yes" and she hung up on me.

Man... who does she think she is and who does she think will buy the tickets next to her? A homeless man? A serial killer?

I wonder if she'll wear a boa and satin to the show... I hope some little kid throws up on her.

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