Seriously get the fuck out I got my coke out here.
I have my own room at the theatre in Balti-mewer and we are here for two nights. Woo god damn hoo thank 'Retha Franklin's hat. I never know when the venues will have enough rooms for me to have my own room. I walk into each venue, bitchy, and then it's revealed to me after wandering around backstage looking for my room. When I see "#5 Mark Baratelli" I smile and buy myself a dozen rozes. When it's the four-person room, it's cool really. I mean the folks I share the room with are nice and don't steal my pot so I'm ok. And I've only had sex with two of them so there's not drama.
Then there are the venues where they throw every male into the same room.
When this happens, a fire *somehow* gets set, usually on the roof. Or, like in Roanoke West Virginia at the HopsNHay Theatre Barn, ten people in the cast get ill. Or like in Irving, Wisconsin, the costumes *randomly* start disappearing/smell like pee/shrink. I'm a sneaky person and I carry matches, diarretics and urine with me at all times, even on the bus.