As the flip-phone clacked, I gave the audience a final spin and took my exit. Nerves-on-high, I collapsed against the wall. I had completed my first performance in DC. Of course, nothing went as planned. There was surely no death drop practiced at home. That was supposed to stay in my bag of tricks. Contacts. I need some fucking contacts. I did rehearse my reveal except I was wearing glasses and lacking a fishnet stockingcap over my eyes, lmao.