"I hate driving in Dallas. Assholes," grumbled Sunshine. Long strands of his hair were covered in oil and sawdust, sticking out every which way. It made him look a little like a mad scientist.
Several of us were sitting on the edge of the stage, injecting more caffeine and sugar into our systems on our break.
"Tell me about it," I replied. "Of course, my Dad would consider it a walk in the park. He went to high school in L.A. after all, and learned to drive there. Though, he says it wasn't nearly as bad back then in the sixties as it is today." I then proceeded to take another swig of Mountain Dew in a vain hope of not feeling quite so bloody tired.
"That explains it!" exclaimed Props Guru, looking up from where he was carving foam a little further down the stage.
"That explains what?" I asked, looking at my other coworkers and seeing they were just as confused as I was.
"You. I've been trying to figure you out for over a year. You grew up in Kansas, went to a Baptist school, and yet your whole outlook is incredibly liberal. I just knew there had to be something," Props Guru explained, long fingers flying about and emphasizing his words.
At the description of me as incredibly liberal. Audio Mentor had to suppress a laugh. I could tell. Honey, his eyes seemed to say. you are a moderate. Don't ever let them try to tell you otherwise.
Before I could say anything, however, Props Guru leaned forward, asking eagerly, "Your dad was a Californian hippie, wasn't he?"
For a brief moment, I considered setting him straight. As far as I knew my father was never an actual hippie, and he'd hated living in California. Dad couldn't wait to get back to Kansas.
But Props Guru looked so utterly pleased with himself.
With a bemused expression, I replied, "More of a biker, but yeah. I guess you could say that."
Sorry, Dad, I thought to myself. I don't have the time, patience, or heart to explain it's all Star Trek's fault.