My city is abuzz with the possibility that the city may shut down – no work = awesome. Then I heard that power outages are likely to accompany said storm. I realized if I’m stuck at home w/ no electricity, my options are rather limited b/c I am completely modernized. I looked for a couple options tonight and found a couple things that include board games (against myself), reading books from my childhood that my mom made me take to clear out her basement – which include Choose Your Adventures and a children’s Bible – or organizing ugly Christmas clothes I never wear or sorting a decade’s worth of Maxim magazines. What I have realized is that I would jump off my balcony an hour after I woke up.
One of the best things about doing comedy is when people come up to you after shows. Here are some quotes over the years that I love –
“You are really good for a new guy. You should watch Jeff Dunham and copy him.” Thanks for assuming I’m new (backhanded compliment) and also for telling me to watch a ventriloquist – since I have never done that before.
“I’ve seen a lot of comics in my life and you’re pretty good. Like Carrot Top.” No comment.
“You should do more n****** jokes.” I’ve never done one, but thanks for the advice. I’ll bet that will get me a shitload of work – what’s funnier than outright racism? Everything, moron.
(In a town 4 hours from my home, after a 25 min. set) “Is this your first time?” Yes, I decided to drive to another state and fucking wing it. Not bad for a newbie!
“I loved your joke about dancing.” That was the other comic’s joke, the one who has a different hair color, is three inches shorter, and is wearing a different colored shirt – but thanks.
“I got a good one for you. Remember Nancy Reagan saying “Just say no” and then Nike came out with “Just Do It?” Thanks for the help. I now have my closing joke. Any references to buggies or rotary phones I can use?
I got a sales call for adding home phone service – for just $20/month! Wow, that sounds more convenient than my cell phone I carry everywhere. As I hung up the phone, I remembered why I got a cell in the first place. Upon moving to Chicago in 2001, I was charged $70 for an installation fee by Ameritech (read: Scumdick Inc.) for a line that already existed. Less than than two weeks in, the line corrupted and I was left w/out any service in a big city where I knew no one. Scumdick Inc. wanted to charge me $95 to send a tech to my apartment for fix the line they just “installed”. I told them, on a pay phone at a four way stop, using a calling card I had purchased (yes, I am old enough to have actually bought calling cards and used a pay phone), that I would pay for nothing unless they refunded my bogus “installation” fee. As I sat on hold for 45 mins waiting on a manager, my calling card expired. I bought another one in a seething rage and got the exact same treatment – on hold this time for 50 mins., the previous 10 arguing w/ a grunt why I needed a manager. In full view of the public, enjoying their summer day, I began screaming vile and mostly incoherent phrases as I smashed the pay phone against the base until it was in four dozen pieces and my hand was covered in blood. I immediately drove to the nearest mall and bought a cell plan, signing with my deformed paw much to the horror of the teenage girl working at the kiosk.
As luck would have it, I moved to Columbus and got a call from Scumdick Inc. six months later about adding home phone service. I asked the lady if they recorded these calls and she said yes. I then told her it wasn’t her fault, but I would love to voice my concerns over her employer’s less than stellar customer treatment. 20 minutes later, I lost my voice and she was in tears (despite me saying after every cursing tirade that she was not to blame), but I felt satisfied knowing that some bag of shit suit had to listen to my violent explosions in order to close some stupid file on open complaints.
My point is, remember the next time you tell someone your corporate policy prevents you from doing the right thing, they are possibly screaming like a lunatic at your stupid company and bashing a receiver into the metal face of your phone booth, costing you five times what the refund would be anyways. OK, that’s only me, b/c I’m a loon, but my point is – eat me Ameritech and home phone service is for people w/ kids and the Amish.
I have been excited about the amount of work I’ve been getting recently. I called my gig for tomorrow to verify the start time. “What time does the show start?” “Well, the first guy goes on at 8:15. (I’m opening the show). Then the real comic goes on after that.” Thanks, unfiltered cigarette bingo hall lady. I am a feature act that just got readjusted.
For the second time in the last two weeks, I was offered drugs after a show. I turned the esteemed gentleman down, only to then have him counteroffer with a construction job. Who better to take a job from than a man who just offered to “burn one down” with me? At least it was pot and not cocaine this time. I got offered cocaine for a t-shirt DVD at a show recently – unfortunately, I don’t know the street value of cocaine, but I’m pretty damn sure it’s worth more than my DVD, t-shirt, and just about anything else I had in my possession.
I pulled out of my place tonight to do two shows and as I hit the ridiculous speed of 9 mph, I slid (in my one month old tires) into a rock. My bumper is now bent… Thank you decorative rock! What have you done for me? You provided me with so much beauty that I have never actually seen b/c you’re only a foot tall. In return, you gave such wonderful gifts, such as a $300 repair bill and a stroke as I entered my black out rage phase. Good news? No rocks at my two shows tonight, but I did see a biography of Nikita Kruschev at the indie bar my first show was at. As I cleared the vomit from my mouth, I realized at least Nikita (girl name) never dented my bumper in. Thanks, fem name commie! I will now dedicate my life to fighting decorative rocks. We will dine in hell tonight!