Monday, July 20, 2015

The Comedy that is Life

Friday night was eventful.

Friday night I had a friend offer me tickets to go to Gotham Comedy club for free. It was a two drink minimum, sure, in NYC, but still, free-ish. I took Hellion since that seemed like the kind of thing he would enjoy and he is my default date.

The comedian featured that night was Michael Molane, who a long time ago in my youth played a reoccurring character on In Living Color. Since that, it seems, he has been doing stand up. I figure good for him, at least he is working. And I know I’ve seen him in a movie here and there as a cameo actor.

We got there a little early and looked for Sassy who was our meal ticket. Sassy was there ahead, waiting in a bar downstairs from the club with a few interesting looking friends. Overall it seemed like it would be a good night.

I will say this. Gotham Comedy club comedians are fucking funny. They know how to work with the audience and how to tease the audience in a way that just skirts offensive, while still being funny. Our table was sitting front row center and there was a threat that we might be called out.

“If he asks what you do tell him you are a professional dominatrix.”

“Really? Like I can pull that off.”

Her friends don’t know me so they say nothing. Hellion smiles amused. We never got the chance, though to make something of a goldmine out of my unprofessed profession.

At midnight I took a cab home.

I came home to a dog in pain.

I could hear him through the door and that was the first thing that started to really upset me. I could hear him through the door and it sounded like someone was kicking him and that was not good. He sounded like someone was squeezing him to hard, like he was being hurt, like he was in pain. There were little streams of pooling saliva around my apartment and I knew it wasn’t good.

The vet, first thing tomorrow. This turned out to be the beginning of almost a 108 hour ordeal, the fact that I was leaving for London on Saturday only really made it worse.


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