Preface - Enter Stage Left
The sound of dripping water stirs me from an alcohol induced sleep. Drip.. Drip.. Drip, my eyes glazed and heavy. At first I wonder what day it is, my brain is trying with vigor to catch up with itself. Ah, its Friday, I have 3 shows to do tonight. I hope my material is well received,. nothing worse than 150 faces staring at you with a perplexed look. As I begin to wake more, I lay with my hand propped up under my head , legs crossed and urination induced erection. Ah, how lucky us men are. I rise, slowly albeit, and head to the toilet, and stand at ease . The remnants of last night are now history, except for a few drunk fish.
I take a container of cold pasta from the fridge and go over my material. How many jokes can I make up that are new.. that won't offend anyone. If they offend everyone , its ok. I sit for hours pouring through notes on napkins, scraps of paper. I am ready or not, I can make it work. I shower and dress in black shirt, jeans and shoes with no socks. How gross is that, leather shoes with no socks. If that leather could talk, man would it be bitching. Feet are interesting appendages, of course we need them to walk, but they do more. They are thermometers for example. If your feet are cold, you are cold, etc.
I arrive at the club, and walk to rear, rusted steel door. I knock once, and a toothless man opens it, Jake is his name. He says "Hey Mate" and I just nod and keep walking. I go on the stage and do a sound check with the so called sound engineer. He also doubles as the bartender. I say "Pudge, can I have a vodka and tonic" . Pudge is an interesting fellow, served in 1991 Gulf War, came home with many stories to tell, some unmentionable. He fought his demons and is doing what he can to make a difference in this society. I walk over to Pudge and pat him on the back, and tell him "You make a difference here, hope you know that" He grunted and walked to get my drink. Before the doors open, I go into the ladies room and scrawl on the wall in pencil, "The Italian comedian has a big sausage" I walk away backstage and await my night.
Sipping my drink the doors open, the usual 15 people come in , and sit in random places. A few more trickle in , and tonight we have some new ladies, must be a girls night out. Show Time !!
I grab my mike, my drink and the bar stool and introduce myself. "Hello folks my name is Carmine and I am Italian, mingya, can you figure that out?" I go thru my routine and notice a pretty young lady staring at my crotch and smiling.... I try not to be obvious, but I am digging it, looks like tonight will be good afterall. During intermission she approaches the stage and brushes her hand across my face and says nothing, and retreats to the ladies room. I start the show again and she is still there smiling, and I run thru the last part of the act. I call a volunteer to the stage, and of course I shame her to coming up. I asked her, what’s your name " Leslie she said. I asked her to help me with a bit I will perform. We finish the bit and I end the show, with a promise to see Leslie directly afterwards.
I motion her to the bar and start my small talk, and ask her if she wanted to get something to eat and go back to my place. She said “Carmine, that will never work”. I shot back, why? She said you must be full because you had a big sausage. I half laughed and said “Leslie, you misunderstood me.. she said “No I didn’t” I asked her why was she staring at my crotch. She replied, from what I saw, your sausage must have been boiled and lost all the fat. I quietly slipped out of there and went home to tie one on, for the next day.
I take a container of cold pasta from the fridge and go over my material. How many jokes can I make up that are new.. that won't offend anyone. If they offend everyone , its ok. I sit for hours pouring through notes on napkins, scraps of paper. I am ready or not, I can make it work. I shower and dress in black shirt, jeans and shoes with no socks. How gross is that, leather shoes with no socks. If that leather could talk, man would it be bitching. Feet are interesting appendages, of course we need them to walk, but they do more. They are thermometers for example. If your feet are cold, you are cold, etc.
I arrive at the club, and walk to rear, rusted steel door. I knock once, and a toothless man opens it, Jake is his name. He says "Hey Mate" and I just nod and keep walking. I go on the stage and do a sound check with the so called sound engineer. He also doubles as the bartender. I say "Pudge, can I have a vodka and tonic" . Pudge is an interesting fellow, served in 1991 Gulf War, came home with many stories to tell, some unmentionable. He fought his demons and is doing what he can to make a difference in this society. I walk over to Pudge and pat him on the back, and tell him "You make a difference here, hope you know that" He grunted and walked to get my drink. Before the doors open, I go into the ladies room and scrawl on the wall in pencil, "The Italian comedian has a big sausage" I walk away backstage and await my night.
Sipping my drink the doors open, the usual 15 people come in , and sit in random places. A few more trickle in , and tonight we have some new ladies, must be a girls night out. Show Time !!
I grab my mike, my drink and the bar stool and introduce myself. "Hello folks my name is Carmine and I am Italian, mingya, can you figure that out?" I go thru my routine and notice a pretty young lady staring at my crotch and smiling.... I try not to be obvious, but I am digging it, looks like tonight will be good afterall. During intermission she approaches the stage and brushes her hand across my face and says nothing, and retreats to the ladies room. I start the show again and she is still there smiling, and I run thru the last part of the act. I call a volunteer to the stage, and of course I shame her to coming up. I asked her, what’s your name " Leslie she said. I asked her to help me with a bit I will perform. We finish the bit and I end the show, with a promise to see Leslie directly afterwards.
I motion her to the bar and start my small talk, and ask her if she wanted to get something to eat and go back to my place. She said “Carmine, that will never work”. I shot back, why? She said you must be full because you had a big sausage. I half laughed and said “Leslie, you misunderstood me.. she said “No I didn’t” I asked her why was she staring at my crotch. She replied, from what I saw, your sausage must have been boiled and lost all the fat. I quietly slipped out of there and went home to tie one on, for the next day.
posted by Ronzi at 5:35 PM
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