Dat saved my butt.
Three years later, after having become an automotive appearance specialist, I now tool the bumpy, narrow, one-way streets of the 300 year-old French Quarter, always in a hurry, often picking up two sets of people; rushing back to the office, and putting them in cars.
This is performance; the kind of hectic theatre which requires a sense of humor, that is to say, while onstage, the mind must be situated in the balcony, looking down on the particular ironies at hand, and having fun with it. It's the only way to survive.
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