I didn’t intend to have an Easter Eve celebration.
After all, I’m a very secular, nonchurch-going Christian. Nonetheless, by a confluence of events, I ended up scheduling a fabulous, life-affirming day before the celebrated Resurrection Day.
In passing, I mentioned my plan to a friend to order bras online. She immediately pounced on the idea, sharing that her bras had also become very shabby during the plague. Not due to ‘Rona directly, but bra-shopping had been a low priority during the pandemic.
She knew the brick and mortar places where we needed to go. Fortunately, our schedules were free the upcoming Saturday morning.
Normally, I have an early afternoon dance rehearsal, but I’d already cancelled that in order to work a paid volunteer gig with a local festival. That gig paid more than my work compensation rate. l also wanted to network. I got more than I bargained for because of that schedule change.
My friend and I had a luxurious amount of time to catch up with one another as she drove us southward to an outlet strip mall. Again, we got lucky. The first underwear place where we shopped fulfilled our needs, so we crossed off all the other places on her list except the shoe store. Even then, she knew exactly what she wanted.
Just in time for civilized people to have an afternoon margarita, we hit a TexMex restaurant and ordered the special. As far as I could tell, it was a standard marg with the addition of a basil leaf, cut strawberries and garnished with a peep. My friend’s peep, fell into the glass, faced down. I laughed, telling her that she was drinking a crime scene. At least when my peep fell in, it was floating on its back as if enjoying the day.
After my shopping and brunch excursion, all I wanted to do was take a nap. I’d awaken a little earlier than usual to bake, do laundry and clean up before going out. It had caught up with me. Once I came home, I saw that my CPA had messaged me several times. I played phone tag with her for a bit before connecting and answering her questions.
My eyes were closed for about 15 minutes when I heard my phone buzz with incoming texts. Thinking my CPA had more questions, I checked. Turns out, the festival volunteer coordinator had inquired whether I could arrive about four hours earlier.
As soon as I walked into the office, the volunteer coordinator asked if I was security.
Of all the questions, I’d never been asked that one when volunteering for a festival. Apparently some groupies had been entering the building, trying to see the band. What she needed me to do was stand outside on the corner and make sure that groupies couldn’t enter the green room from the street.
Inwardly, I laughed. Of all things…getting paid to stand on the corner! Not nearly as much for people in that profession, but far more than someone just hanging out. One of the best things about standing outside on a beautiful day was seeing random people.
Such as the Easter Bunny.
The head of security had also responded to the text to arrive earlier. He was character: a rancher who broke in horses by day, working security at various festivals around the state at night. For this particular event, since he was caught off guard with the early call, he showered in the horse stable.
We swapped stories as we worked our part of the perimeter. After a few hours, he allowed me to eat first. The festival had sprung for pita sandwiches. I ate outside in the courtyard by myself on one side of the building. Normally, I eat while watching TV. People watching was just as entertaining as I imagined what each cluster of people did for the festival.
As the sun went down, the event came to life. I reposted to the exit to make sure that no one left with an alcoholic drink once they finished looking at the 8 or 10 different artist installations. I also directed incoming people to the entrance to have their bags checked by the real security folks. Confusing enough, the exit was all lit up as if it were the entrance.
Within an hour of showtime, one of festival guys asked if I was security. Throughout the day, various people had asked me that. By this time, I was ready. “No,” I said, “I’m just a bossy Black woman who volunteered for this festival.” The guy flashed a nervous grin like, oh no, you just mentioned race. In the meantime, the head of security exclaimed, “I didn’t know you were Black!” He said to me. “Did you know?” He looked at the festival guy, who remained speechless.
Teresa the incog-negro strikes again!
The real security team got into position for the band.
I’d never heard of “Princess Goes to the Butterfly Museum,” but I knew of the front man, who also plays the title character in the Netflix series, “Dexter.”
The crowd was just as entertaining as the band.
At one point, the band played a song similar to a U2 song and some drunk guys started singing the chorus to “All I Want Is You.” Another drunk guy screamed, “Kill someone!”
I’m happy to report that, as far as I know, no one died as a result of that event.