This happened Dec 1st, 2017.
I was working a show at the Annex downtown. Involved prospects are dancers in a specific dance training program, which I probably shouldn’t name because it’s not the program that caused my juice to go missing.
But this was no ordinary juice. It was a “booster shot” that I had purchased out of the blue moon; one of those healthy concentrated mixes of natural ingredients. There is supposedly nothing but nutrients your body is dying to receive. Well. I left it in the fridge that was accessible to everyone backstage thinking that I could have it after the show is done and strike finished. But when I came to grab it at the end of the day, it was gone. Nothing but air in its place. Having it taken was a devastating blow to my day. I needed my expensive, almost unnecessary boost of nutrients. I wouldn’t have gotten it if I didn’t need it; and I rarely needed a stupid, over-priced 3oz of concentrates to help me feel better about my day.
It was gone. No one knew what had happened to it. No one I asked even knew about the shot I had kept in the fridge, and no one knew just how frustrated and upset having my juice stolen made me feel. What the actual fuck? Was this because I am Asian? Was this because I am a woman of colour? Was this because I am a queer woman of colour? Was this because I am a lesbian? Was this because an asshole decided that no queer woman of colour is deserving of a nutrient boost?
Who gave the prick the right to take something that wasn’t theirs? Whatever happened to the honour system? Why are the millennials so inconsiderate? Was that a generalization? Was it unfair for me to think that you stealing my juice is a microaggression? Your casual inconsideration becomes what feels like a targeted attack on a queer woman of colour – me – albeit unintentional in degrading any marginalized groups. I know thinking that could be a bit of a stretch, but so was stealing. Any excuse to convince and soothe myself from the hurt and anger triggered by someone taking something that didn’t belong to them, were whole-hearted welcomed – even if I was countering a wrong with a wrong.
Where's My Dime? 