MORE Old People Stuff

So the other day I went to work at the Studio which is where I help out with art classes for the childrens. I met Mrs. Yueill (my boss) there in the morning to meet and go over some new plans for the studio (Which includes this week long class I'm teaching at the start of August that combines art and theatre. I am pretty excited about it. I'm thinking of walking into the class in persona wearing all black and beret and don the name Veronica Dunkleberry or something ridiculous).
ANYWAY
We were also there waiting on a large plaster shipment. So large it apparently was on a pallet. Yes. Yes. A pallet of plaster.
So the morning goes by, we discuss some things.
And then the old people start to arrive.
The old people have a class on the other side of the studio at noon. At 11:30 these ladies and one man start pulling up for the start of the class before the teacher has even arrived (They, allegedly need the extra half hour to make coffee and set out their snacks. Seriously. Could I make this up?). All this would be fine except these are the SURLIEST old people probably EVER. They make the old people I deal with at the box office look like...well, less old.
So. The old people are starting to arrive and giving Mrs. Yueill and I the evil eye for being in the studio during "their time" even though we operate different sides of the room anyway.
Now, unable to be timed any more perfectly the large plaster shipment arrives in tandem with the old people.
Let me paint you a picture.
The plaster shipments we get usually arrive UPS.
Not this one.
This one arrives on a flipping RIG.
NO JOKE
So this poor driver has to back this huge rig into out small lot.
So he does and opens his door and we see the literal PALLET of boxes for us. We discover he will have to maneuver his big rig slightly as there is no room to get this pallet through.
He goes to his truck.
It won't start.
He spends the next 10 minutes trying to get it to start (eventually he did) all the while old people are arriving and fit to be tied/confused/outraged that this rig is blocking a portion of the lot (he wasn't even blocking the spots, all they had to do was turn to the left.
So this one old woman who had been inside for a while comes outside where Mrs. Yueill and I are and says...(Please imagine the most indignant old person possible and that's what you'd get for this moment. It's also worth noting that this woman was a student in the class and not anyone who worked at the studio and thus has no right whatsoever to be questioning what's going on...)
OLD WOMAN: (Comes outside stares at truck for a moment. Then suddently very indignant)She said they're delivering plaster??
MRS. YUEILL: Yes. We're getting a big plaster shipment. (She laughs a little)
OLD WOMAN: (With even more indignance) For what???
MRS. YUEILL: For our children's classes. They're plaster molds that the kids paint.
(The old woman stares at Mrs. Yueill a moment her mouth agape in old people indignant horror. She then hobbles off to her car, muttering under her breath.)

Cue the delivery guy rolling up to the door with a PALLET a PALLET of boxes full of plaster goodness. A pallet so large we had to unwrap the plastic around it and take them in several boxes at a time.
So we get them all in and I start schleping some to the back. Mrs. Yueill is near the old people section and one old lady walks over to her and points to me and in an attempt to be endearing says, "Is that your son??" Mrs. Yueill sorta laughs and says, "No. That's Amy." Well the old lady gets all embarrassed and just walks away, I'm giggling and Mrs. Yueill is like, "That's ok. She gets that a lot right Aims? It's the short hair." I was like, "Yup, all the time."
Hilarious.

I later had the distinct pleasure of opening most of these boxes and was pleased to discover the enormous array of plaster figures we will be offering to classes. From bunnies to lighthouses to rose plates to clowns (creepy), there will be no end to the plaster amazingness in the studio in the upcoming months. Get excited. Sadly, there were no plaster unicorns which has been a studio staple for many years. Mostly it is sad because I enjoy the ridiculousness of telling people my job is to help children paint plaster unicorns. Telling people my job is to help children paint plaster clowns just sounds creepy.