Monday, December 16, 2013

You're Not My Yoko Ono!

I think the girl on the left, the little Asian chick, got confused about all the attention over my face. She seemed to think they were paying attention to her, which eventually got really annoying. It got the most annoying when she said in a voice that only Yoko Ono could love “I should be up there! I should be up there!” and started trying to get her male companion to hoist her on to stage. I whispered in his ear that getting on the stage would get her immediately kicked out of the venue so he managed to restrain her, but as the intermission came up and the curtain came down she hopped onto the stage and started screeching at the couple behind me.

The couple behind mewho I had noticed when the show startedwas an older couple in their late fifties/early sixties who were celebrating an anniversary. When asked how they ended up at a burlesque show, apparently it had just came up on Facebook and seemed like a good idea.

“The best part was telling my son when he dropped us off at the train. He asked  ‘Dad, what are you doing for you anniversary in Chicago?’ and I said ‘Your mother and I are going to the Suicide Girls Burlesque Show.’” I could imagine the look on said son's face. I was amused, I might have been more amused had Yoko not started screeching about how amazing it was. And she continued to screech for the next fifteen minutes. In my ear. Fortunately for her, I had my earplugs in. Unfortunately for me, even with the earplugs, I could still hear her damn screeching.

Finally she seemed to notice I was there and decided to try to engage me.

“Isn’t it WOOONderfFULLL???? Don’t you LOOOOVE their story? Isn’t that the MOOOOOST amaZZZZZing love STORY!!!!!”

“Honey, you have the most annoying voice I have ever heard and all I really want is for you to shut the fuck up now.”


“No, seriously, just stop talking. Please, shut THE FUCK up.”

“But their love story.”

“Really. The fuck up.”

She just stared at me, unbelieving (it seemed) that anyone could not enjoy the amazing love story that she had been retelling for the last fifteen minutes at the top of her annoying Yoko Ono into my ear.


“Look, I paid good money to be here and be entertained and you are really fucking annoying, so please, just stop.”

“I paid a lot of money too!”

“Since I didn’t see you upstairs with the girls earlier, I’m going to say, no, no you didn’t.”

That seemed to be the final straw for her, because she hopped off the stage and stopped screeching in my ear and before long she moved away from me and back into the crowd to enjoy the show from somewhere else. That was just fine with me.

The second part of the act opened with our redhead announcing on stage with cake. Cake which she made sure to throw in my mouth, into my hair, and at the audience. This was followed by Boz again, with the whiskey bottle completing the effect of me being entirely covered in whisky and cake on my birthday.

I was amused, thinking It’s been awhile since I’ve been covered in whiskey and cake. And yet, it was somehow very appropriate to be covered in whiskey and cake once again.

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