I did a benefit show Saturday night. It was a packed house…actually a packed patio, it was outdoors. It’s always nice to have a full crowd, even if some pieces of shit wouldn’t chip in ticket money. Nothing says I’m useless as a human when you stick around for a free comedy show without throwing a few bucks to help fight cancer.
The show went pretty well, despite a pretty rowdy bunch. One guy in particular didn’t originally come to the show, but paid his money and sat at the bar. About five minutes in, he offered up a shot to me. “Sure, but I’m kind of busy right now.” After about five minutes, he piped up again. “I got you that shot!” Again, I’m busy, but I needed to shut this drunk up. I walked over, he handed me the shot and whispered (loudly) “You need to wrap it up!” Thanks, buddy. We took the shot, then he slurred, but with emphasis. “Seriously, you should wrap it up.”
Well, I didn’t wrap it up, on principle and he left. Apparently, I shouldn’t have interrupted his normal Saturday routine of being drunk and listening to the same fifteen songs on the bar’s jukebox. Perhaps I should have done some jokes about sleeveless tees or passing out at the bar to relate to him. My bad, friend.