Off to the next one… I loaded up my shit and dropped my dog at Mom’s house, then faced a lovely six hour drive through the great state of Pennsylvania, the Montana of the east. I had to hit the turnpike, which cost me about $15 in tolls one way. Nothing like paying to drive on a pothole filled highway. Thanks, PA, your roads and beer laws suck. What kind of state doesn’t sell beer at gas stations? What is this, 1887?
I got to the motel and surprise!!! they had no room for me. Luckily, the dude working knew the club owner and hooked me up. I drove a while and since the sun now goes down at around 4 pm, I was ready to snap, especially since I called yesterday and they told me it was all good. How dare I demand a room? What a diva I am.
The club was cool and the crowd was big, so my rage was sated. I had about five people tell me that I was funny. Nice. Then I went to take a leak and two gentlemen (cough) were at the stalls. I walked into the stall and overhead this nugget – “That first guy was whack!” “Yeah, he’s supposed to be average so the headliner is funny.” I almost said something, but held back. I really showed them later when I sold one DVD after the show and got a free shot of Beam. (That’s sarcasm!) Night one in the books, yay comedy time.