San Antonio Journal Part I – Chief, The Alamo…

Two smooth flights yesterday, so I did not have a repeat of the near-death experience from two weeks ago on the way to Indianapolis.  Flew to Atlanta from LaGuardia and ran through the airport OJ-style looking for a Chick Fil-A, but could not find the terminal in time before needing to get my connection to San Antonio.  I then found myself sitting right next to a young man, who based on his Mohican eyes and Native American necklace was definitely going to Harvard on a free ride.  He was six foot four and sitting right next to me.  So the two most physically awkward of the 180 passengers on the plane are forced to hip dry hump for two hours to Texas.

On a side note – whoever flew the plane from LaGuardia to Atlanta had the softest landing of all time in Atlanta.  This blog is often a bastion of hate (honest hate, but hate nonetheless) and I think it was important to point out a hero out there.  On the flip side the pilot to from Atlanta to Texas was named Jeff Davis (How did that name not go the way of Adolph – oh right because people in the South still think Jefferson Davis is a hero) and landed quite bumpily in San Antonio.

The comedian condo is located near The Alamo.  Not impressed.  I feel like 10 years ago I might have been able to just jump up and climb over the wall.  It seemed more like a taunt to the little people who were trying to take it.

At the show there were 10 people, all up front (a comedy friendly ratio of 8 women and two men).  Only one man felt free enough to laugh a lot so I probably directed 60% of my “skits” at him.  At the end of my half hour I observed the following break down of the group’s reaction:

• 6 people clapping (probably an even split of 3 appreciative and 3 obligatory/reluctant)
• 1 person smiling and doing nothing
• 2 people staring with arms folded in protest
• 1 person shaking her head disapprovingly

After my “comedy thing” I went looking for food in the shopping mall, but it was already 9pm so everyone was closing shop to prepare for the rapture, except for Chili’s and Hooters.  Now given the dismissive reaction I had just been given from over a half dozen women, Hooters would have been the logical, get even, degrade-my-enemy type move, but I went against my instinct and had a burger and fries at Chilis.  But on the televisions in Chilli’s was the show Revenge, so apparently women were not done ruining my night.  I observed 15 minutes of the show and I hope the creators of that show die alone.  Of course my anger took a turn for the weird when I was banging on the door of a closing Hooters screaming, “I cannot take our stupid, female driven pop culture – I want to degrade you with an 8% tip!!!!”

I slept about 11 hours last night (slightly interrupted because of an incredible loud cracking sound that keeps emanating from my window), which may sound like a good thing, but I have not slept that much since I was skipping classes, neck deep in depression, in law school. In other words – it is a great thing!!!!  That law school depression is what drove me to comedy.  Perhaps now I am being driven to find some other form of life that will offer temporary happiness and years of torment!  Def poetry slam runner up has a nice ring to it.