Sister Story - Part One

We're taking ten... which means that I'll probably have enough time to barely start this blog post before Jim is calling me back inside to resume working on le script. 

We are currently bogged down in the depths of rejigging the structure. We worked until about 11 o'clock last night, and then started up again first thing this morning. (However, all this brainstorming somehow has a way of making the mind very weary, so I slept in an hour later than usual.)

Anyhow, we're about 2/3 through the second act, and are both really happy with the progress we've made.... even though we know that our producers will offer some fresh perspective and help us reconstruct things even further once they get their hot little hands on what we've written. 

Ah yes, but this is not what I came here to write about. No... today's blog entry, my dear friends, is about ma soeur.  Last night I asked Amy for permission to write about her, and gave her a quick summary of what I wanted to say. Fortunately (for me), she laughed and said yes. 

Why did she laugh, you ask? Well... you'll see soon enough.

I always loved the quote from the movie Capote where Truman says, "It's as if Perry and I grew up in the same house. And one day he stood up and went out the back door, while I went out the front." 

I felt that it perfectly described my sister and I... only we actually did grow up in the same household - you'd just never know it to meet us. Mom's favourite saying used to be, "You girls are like night and day." And we were. Actually, in many ways, we still are. 

If you're reading this, then I assume that you already know me pretty well, and therefore, I shouldn't have to describe myself to you. So instead, allow me to introduce you to my younger sister, Amy.

Amy is best described as a pit bull. She's got a wee bit of a temper, but she always means well. She is fiercely loyal of those she loves. If someone speaks ill against anyone she cares for (or even if it just kinda sounds like they are), Amy will not think twice about ripping their head off and spitting down their neck. 

To this day, Mom and Amy still insist that she once came home from school with bloody knuckles after kicking some guy's ass who was mean to me on the playground. I have absolutely no recollection of such an event, so I can't guarantee or deny it's validity. I guess I'll just have to take their word for it. Then again, I had a long laundry list of people who got their jollies by picking on me in elementary school, (what can I say? I was an easy target...), so if Amy was apparently protecting me behind my back, then I don't think she was doing a very thorough job. ;) Ha ha.

Of course, there was always a thin line between being defended by Amy, and needing to defend oneself against Amy. I think I survived most of my teenage years by locking myself in the bathroom - the only door in our little house with a lock. And I still don't understand why *I* was the one who got in trouble one warm summer evening, when our African Grey Parrot performed his new catch phrase in front of company -- "F*ck off! F*ck off, Amy! F*ck off!" You'd think my parents would've questioned what Amy was doing to provoke me. Ah well....

My all-time favourite Amy story is what I fondly refer to as "The Subway Story".  This is the story I asked Amy's permission to tell. So obviously in Amy's defense, if she was the same person now as she was back then, I definitely wouldn't have gotten her permission with such an easy laugh... This took place half her lifetime ago, and she has grown up significantly since then.

Now, we all know that most kids tend to get a little cranky, angsty, moody or what have you, as they hit puberty. Well, when Amy hit puberty, her temper suddenly soared. One day when she was about 14 and working at Subway in the mall, a woman came up and ordered a sub. Well, I guess Amy was relatively new to the job at the time, and apparently she didn't make this woman's sub fast enough. When it came time for the customer to pay, she refused. She told my sister that she took too long and so she didn't want the sub anymore. 

Now... if it were me in a situation like this, I'd probably feel like shit for the rest of the day. Actually, I'd probably feel like shit every time I ever encountered that woman again for the rest of my life... at least until I was certain that all had been forgotten.

Not Amy.

Amy lunged across the counter, fists swinging, yelling that she was going to kill the effing bitch... or something to that effect.

Ah yes... that's my girl!

Actually, I wouldn't doubt that Amy would've kicked this woman's ass if it weren't for her quick-thinking boss who grabbed her by the pants and attempted to reel her back in behind the counter. Unfortunately, this wasn't much of a deterrent, and only resulted in him almost pulling her pants off. 

Oh man, I would've given anything to have been in the food court that day!

Now, I know what you're thinking.... Surely, she must've been fired! 

Nope. 

In fact, Amy continued to work at Subway for years to come -- although, I think it was because her boss was probably afraid to fire her after witnessing such a psychotic outburst. I mean, wouldn't you fear for your life too... even just a little? Fortunately, Amy's customer service skills blossomed in time, and she eventually became the Assistant Manager over at New York Fries, where she has worked ever since, up until her sick leave and subsequent maternity leave.

Anyway, last week Amy finally returned from mat leave, and before she could even print off her resume (because NYF went under in the year and a half she was gone), she was offered her pick of the litter from a half dozen job opportunities at various stores in the mall.

Truth be told, aside from her occasional rants, (which haven't happened in quite a number of years - she's mellowed out a lot in her ol' age ;) Amy has an amazing work ethic. It seems that people (at the Pembroke Mall anyway) are simply falling all over themselves to hire her. A few store managers were even prepared to fire current employees just to accommodate bringing Amy on board. (The store she ended up choosing actually did fire someone to make room for her...)

But the real point of this post is more about how Amy doesn't plan on working at the mall forever. At 28 years of age, she finally has a goal. A good one at that. I've never been more proud. She also has a controversial plan that will help her achieve her goal. And while I'm still very supportive believing that the end justifies the means, a handful of others are not quite so thrilled.

But since this blog post is already long enough, (and since I've spent well over ten minutes writing), I'll have to get back to working on le script and save the rest of my story for later.

To be continued...