The Cackler was back in action tonight. Before Chamber Choir practice started, we were all kind of chatting and catching up. I greeted the Cackler who greeted me back. Then she said something that I didn’t hear too well, so I responded with, “What?” She said, “I asked you how you were doing, but I guess that was a trick question! *cackle*” Grrr. I joked about it, which probably wasn’t the best idea because that just encourages her, but I also didn’t want to start anything uncomfortable.
Later on while singing a particular song, I accidently sang a bit of a part for the Altos. The Cackler caught this immediately, and while our director was giving the altos more…well…direction, the Cackler took it upon herself to hand me her pencil to add notes to the song so that I don’t sing it again. I was just about to reach for my own pencil, but I’m so glad she was there for me. I did say, “Oh, I was about to grab my own pencil…” but it was lost in her cloud o’smugness.
Speaking of clouds, the Cackler had a bad funk tonight. It smelled like dirty clothes and old sweat. It made me nauseous. Thankfully I was able to move away from her and into a different pew (no pun intended) during regular choir practice. The lady next to me is more approachable and easier to talk to, but she leaned over to me to tell me something and it smelled like she had eaten pickles wrapped in garlic. Fine, I could take that smell anyday instead of the other odor.
My friends and I joke with each other at work whenever we catch ourselves acting juvenile and we say, “Ticket to Hell, please!” We even chose our friend J to be the designated driver, which he loved.