First Rihanna, then an anti-“Gentile” heckler.
This weekend I learned of a few widespread rumors concerning Rihanna and Chris Brown. Apparently love has a lot to do with it for the 21st century’s Ike and Tina. Or at least daddy issues. Rihanna is said to be taking Chris Brown back, which sends an awful message to young women in abusive relationships. After sitting in the complaint room of the Bronx District Attorney’s Office for 3 1/2 years telling abused women that they should leave their abusive boyfriends or husbands it will be a tougher sell to to get Maria to leave Jorge if Rihanna won’t leave Chris. Furthermore, as if trying to undo the symbolic value of Barack Obama in a one-two punch, Rihanna is also rumored to be preggers with Chris Brown’s spawn. So I guess Rihanna is getting kicked inside and out. I assume either Pharell or Timbaland is mixing a beat for Chris Brown’s newest single “Forgive Me” or some ridiculous song like that. We have forgiven men peeing on women (R Kelly), men hitting women (Tommy Lee) and men swallowing women whole (Macy Gray) so I see no reason that with the right PR campaign, the right beat and the right stupid American public why Chris Brown can’t make a comeback.
Well, last night I wanted to make a few current event jokes (hoping certain Jews lost money with Madoff, Chris Brown/Rihanna jokes, talking about Obama shattering MC Hammer’s record for most money spent by a black man in one day), but I was interrupted by a heckler at the Goldhawk before I could start a joke. I have a sort of repressed temper that used to be really bad. Last night it almost came out, but instead this heckler simply ruined the end of what was a ridiculously great show. Here’s a recap:
- Jim Dodge led off the show brilliantly. We have our 3rd big crowd in a row – woo-hoo.
- Pat Breslin steps up and talked about his new engagement – laughs ensue, everybody happy.
- Jess Burkle, who may be one of the quickest, sharpest comics I’ve ever seen on any level absolutely destroyed the room.
- Mark Normand – with the toughest job of the night is equal to the challenge and killed.
- Helen Hong goes up and this is where I start to smell trouble. Retarded drunk guy comes in and is speaking a little loudly and trying to inject himself into Helen’s routine, but she dealt with him quickly and powered through her routine maintaining the great energy of the room while he sort of stayed quiet. But like a bad plot of 24 he was just the opening plot line that ends around episode 15 to be usurped by an even worse plot. Helen Hong’s set ends, enter the The Heckling Jewish Guy (HJG)
- Jim brings me up to my Craig Ferguson credit:
HJG: Ferguson sucks
J-L: Alright – thanks man. Any Jewish people here pissed about Madoff(about to go into a Madoff joke)?
HJG: I’m Jewish – right here. Fu-king gentiles are mad because they lost all their money with Madoff.
J-L: OK buddy, let’s be serious. (scowling at him so that his entire party is telling him to be quiet and apologize for him – mood lost for the show which was one of our best ever)
HJG: Yes, let’s be serious.
J-L (wanting to plant the base of the mic stand through his skull and give him the worst beating a Jew has seen since Jesus): Jim, can we get some staff in here please (sitting meditating, forehead vein pulsing)?
HJG: (leaving with friends): I’m Jewish, Fu-k you gentile (these were the words I heard, perhaps in different order).
I do not deal well with hecklers, especially drunk and stupid ones – they are sort of like the Terminator – “they can’t be bargained with. they can’t be reasoned with. they won’t stop ever, until the show is dead.” My response is all or nothing. Either I let it pass with no response or I really ruin the show by saying something like “SHUT YOUR FU-KING MOUT MOTHERFU-KER!” I have found the passive route more likely to give me an aneurysm, but maintains a better show.
I should have probably left the stage and yelled at Pat and Jim – “keep him here!” and then come back while Jim and Pat are having drinks with him and gone Goodfellas on him. There’s always next show.