A couple of weeks ago I wrote a blog called “The Death of Stand Up Comedy” (https://jlcauvin.com/?p=4382). Well apparently I was wrong because comedy woke up and beat the sh*t out of me in the last 6 days. So maybe comedy is a zombie – sort of dead, but still able to inflict pain and humiliation.
Last Friday night I worked a room in Connecticut. It was in the back of a restaurant opening for a ventriloquist. And that was the highlight. Upon arriving back in New York City around 1:30 am I went to a bar near Grand Central Station to have a beer. About halfway through my beer I felt a rub against my leg. It was a seductive touch that immediately piqued my interest and seemed exactly like what the doctor ordered after closing my window of hope by opening for a ventriloquist. Here’s a picture:
That is right – a dog was getting awfully frisky with me at the bar. Perhaps it was my animal magnetism, or the peanut butter I use to wash my genitals or he just confused me for a tree to urinate on. Any of these would have been palatable alternatives to the truth. The truth was that the dog’s 80 year old owner was about to begin courting the young, depressed buck known as Righteous Prick. That is right, the gay dog slut was only playing wingman to Cruella DeVille. She just sat next to me and kept asking me questions, including where I lived. Naturally, when she went outside to let her dog urinate (at least the urine it had not already left on the bar room floor – what a sloppy drunk) I asked the bartender what her deal was.
Bartender: She is rich.
Bartender: Big time.
JL: Do you have any date rape drugs?
Bartender: For her?
JL: No, for me.
Fortunately, my better angels won out and I went home alone, but I hope my moderate kindness got me into her will. Though asking people at the bar if they saw her also, to make sure I was not seeing dead people, could have been interpreted as insulting.
Then after the weekend I headed to New Orleans to perform for the Conference of State Bank Supervisors. The show was exactly as exciting as it sounded. It was myself and two other members of Comedians at Law performing down there and we made a pact after the gig that our next gig should be for 9/11 widows because we need a more feel good show to participate in to pick up our spirits. I already wrote the gig up for the Comedians at Law site so enjoy it here – http://comediansatlaw.com/2012/08/01/well-alright-comedians-at-law-go-to-the-big-easy-the-hard-way/
If any comedians want the short story and a tip to walk away with from the New Orleans gig it is that when the organizer of an event greets the three comedians after the show with, “Well… alright,” then something has gone horribly wrong.