I had a comedy first the other night – I had to leave during a show due to a family emergency. I did my set and my phone blew up. It was the worst case scenario. There was a mouse in the house. “But Chris, there’s much worse things than that!” Have you met my wife?
Our wonderful murder cat, who has brought me about seven dead mice, 2 live chipmunks, a dead snake and my favorite, a live bird that I thought was dead until I went to pick it up, had another surprise. It was likely dead, but that means nothing to my better half. Terrorist attack? No sweat. Mouse that is 94% likely already dead? Four alarm fire.
I got home and the ante was upped by the fact my kid was asleep, the cat was sans mouse and my bride was barricaded on the couch with her cell flashlight scanning the floor like a prison spotlight. After 45 minutes, I was unable to find the 3 inch menace, so I had to run right back to the show.
On the return home, I was told “If you can’t find that mouse, I can’t be in this house. I’ll have to leave.” Using what I thought was reason I said, “That mouse is more scared of you than you of it.” The cold glare back made me realize that was incorrect. So I did find the damn thing and it was stone dead. Long story short, if want to burgle my house, tell me there’s free beer down the street and throw a mouse at my wife – you would have squatter’s rights by the time we came back.
The traditional gift for a first anniversary is paper. So I got my wife Janet Jackson tickets about a year ago. The concert got postponed in January, then rescheduled to July – when we had our non-refundable vacation planned. I asked for my money back, but was told they couldn’t until Janet actually cancelled, not postponed. Then they postponed again. Turns out Janet got preggers at 62 or however old she is, so basically, Janet Jackson stole my money. That’s the way love goes, eh Janet?
So as a backup, I decided to get my wife Dixie Chicks tickets instead. The concert was pretty good, they are very talented and I knew more songs than I thought. Surprisingly, I wasn’t too annoyed being around that many people, but there were a few. I was standing in a beer line about 14 deep. They had three types of beers. Three. The line was slow and the guy in front of me finally got up – “Do you guys have Miller Lite?” No, we have these three beers. “Oh. Let me think about it.” We were in line for 12 minutes, stupid. You couldn’t process that decision earlier?
Then there was drunk lady in front of me. She was between airplane runway and jackhammer noise level most of the night. How do you know she was drunk, Chris? Because she was dancing before the music even came on. She must have seen something shiny, because she left and didn’t come back.
I did notice it was rather female heavy in the crowd. Mostly semi-fake country girls about my age or older. Here’s some perspective.
Actually, maybe the reason it was empty was that some guy with explosive diarrhea covered the back and top of the toilet like he was making modern art. I about gagged, but of course found time to snap a pic and text my wife, because I’m romantic and it was too funny not to share. I hope he sat on the end of the aisle or brought an extra set of Wranglers or he was in for a longer night than whomever had to drive that drunk lady home.
As our daughter gets older, we notice certain traits she gets from mom and others from me. She sleeps like my wife (aka can wake up if the winds shift in the Tropic of Capricorn) and has my patience (aka waits .01 seconds, then plows through all obstacles with furious rage). One I hope she skips is dad’s OCD tendencies.
1) If I sweat and am not working out or doing physical labor, I HAVE to shower. There are worse OCD traits, for sure. I have a buddy that has to shower every time he drops a deuce. If I had both those problems, I would be typing this blog in the shower.
2) Try getting through your 20’s as me when you can’t walk past a couch and not adjust the throw pillows. Don’t get me started on rug tassels. I’m straight, by the way.
3) If someone is talking to me and has a pimple on their face, I can’t physically listen to anything they are saying. If someone comes in and tells me the secret to eternal life or the winning Powerball numbers and have a pus filled zit on their nose, my brain shuts off all sensory functions and tries to find a way to pop the thing without directly assaulting the person.
4) One time my so called buddy pointed out I missed a spot shaving and I pulled on the stubby hairs for the next 2 hours of the road trip until we stopped and I dry shaved with gas station Lady Bics.
I think she’ll be fine, but the other night she did make us grab every single toy, one by one, before she went to bed. Not bad, until you realize my kid has 8 Elmos. In the living room alone. And Elmo’s not her favorite anymore. Better keep your zits out of her face.
I don’t travel as much as I used to for comedy, but people used to get excited and ask me where my next gig was. I’ll give you a couple stories to show you it’s not what you think. Don’t get me wrong, there were some great times on the road – staying at casinos is a blast, having people in a new town buy ten of your dumb shirts is really cool and you get to see a lot of small and large towns and sights. Other times, though, it sucks.
My second ever road gig out of state was above a bowling alley – huge crowd, fun room, but the hotel was less than expected. I opened the door and realized there were makeup stains on the pillowcases. A lot of makeup, like Tammy Faye Baker was smothered to death and the pillowcases were being preserved as evidence. I went to the front desk. “Can I get a new pillowcase? This one is dirty.” The manager, not native to our fine land, acted like I was asking for another bed. “WHAT? MY WIFE CLEAN THIS! IT CLEAN!” I stopped for second, taken aback, then got pissed. “There’s makeup on here, can you not see? Either your eyesight is bad or your washing machine doesn’t work!” “FINE! I GIVE YOU ONE!” Again, like I was asking for Egyptian linen and fresh rose petals.
I went back, then realized nothing had probably been washed sheet wise, but the towels were clean, so I covered the bed with towels and turned the heat up to avoid using the blanket. Oh and I drank a shitload after the show so I could pass out in that garbage dump. That helped too.
Here’s how conspiracy theories work. Find one, maybe two questionable details, then build an entire network of make believe and refuse to listen to anything else. Example: 9/11 truthers. “What about building 7 falling down? Hmm?” Well, have you ever tested the effects are multiple planes smashing into buildings? Have you seen the rebuttals to your conspiracy theories? How about the massive trail of evidence and backstories of the terrorists? “I SAID WHAT ABOUT BUILDING 7?” God, you’re a douche. Go back to your lonely chatroom or wherever you people talk to other loonies. Please try to restrain yourself from posting your stuff on the actual day. There’s plenty of real stuff to pin blame on the government without dancing into imagination land. “JET FUEL THERMO EXPLOSIONS! I HAVE INTERNET ACCESS SO I’M A SCIENTIST!”
I have a show tomorrow at Rehab Tavern at 8 pm (456 W. Town St., Columbus, OH). Here’s why you should attend in you are in Central Ohio.
1) It’s after the OSU game and you’ll probably be coming down off a buzz. What else are you going to do, mow your grass at 8 pm? If you’re mowing my neighbor’s grass, that’s actually cool. It’s a jungle over there.
2) It’s free and they serve alcohol. Both good reasons. Less popular answer? They have soft drinks! You just lost Family Feud. Dumb answer.
3) I’m doing new jokes. This is big news. Try writing new material with a 13 month old. Material everywhere, too tired to actually type or write words. I’VE EARNED IT.
4) I’ll fight a lion at the end of the show. Oh, the permit was denied. Well I tried.
5) NO ONE WILL KNEEL OR SIT FOR OUR NATIONAL ANTHEM. OK, that’s true, but there’s no national anthem before a comedy show. We may sit through Mother by Danzig though. Some drunk girl played it four times one night. (It was me, but I blamed it on her. That song is awesome.)
Did I mention it was a free comedy show?