Some days. . . you just can't win

Here's the bottom line, my income has slowly but steadily been decreasing since the beginning of the year. Saturday I decided to try out Hollywood and Highland in the afternoon before working at the CityWalk that evening. All looked good, not to hot in the direct sunlight where I would be performing. Moderate traffic gelling up. I started to set my stuff up when a nearby balloon twister told me that the kiosk I was about to set up in front of, would have problem with my sound system. I thanked him and set up on the other side of him. After I set up, I was approached by a woman who was dressed like Marilyn Monroe (one of the many costumed characters on Hollywood Blvd. hustling tips for photo's with them). She started in on me with a medium nag, telling me that she was here first. Nag, nag,nag. . . I calmly explained to her that had she asked me before I set all my stuff up, there wouldn't have been an issue. Trying to be sensitive to her concerns, I told her that I didn't gather large crowds and that I did quick shows. I added, that if in 15 minutes, she had a problem with what I was doing, she could tell me and I would move. I told her that was the best I could do.

I worked for an hour an a half for meager results, a couple of deck sales and maybe ten or 15 bucks. . . ugly really, for a Saturday afternoon. Anyway, here comes Marilyn Monroe with her panties all twisted in a knot. She starts right in on me asking me angrily why I didn't leave after 15 minutes like I said I would. I tried to remind her what I HAD said, that if she had an issue with me, that she needed to communicate that to me and and I would leave. Even at that point (as I was ready to split anyway), I looked her right in the eyes and told her that she would never have a problem with me, and that if she still wanted me to leave I would. This seemed to make her more angry and she went of on some verbal rant about how she was a Christian and that she knew what I was. I thought she meant that I was Jewish. With an ugly face (clearly past her prime as a Marilyn Monroe), she rambled loudly about how I was going to hell for doing magic, bla, bla, bla). I turned on my mic and started to make fun of her. it was starting to draw a crowd. I told her that the only thing that she had in common with Marilyn Monroe, was that they were both crazy. Rather than leave at this point, I dug in my heals and worked another 40 minutes to the same mediocre results.

OK big deal, it can happen to anybody. I went home for a couple hours to chill before hitting the CityWalk. An hour into my lackluster Saturday night, I'm hassled by a couple of drunks to the point of retiring for the rest of the evening. Security dealt with the jerks promptly and professionally, but my mood was fucked!

It's hard enough to do what I do, given the economy and the ever rapidly, shrinking attention span. But to have to deal with fuck wads in my face. . . that part I can do with out.

But. . . today is another beautiful day, I have nothing in my heart but love and all I want to do is make people happy.

Getting ready to go to work now. Low (but realistic) expectations.