PG - 30

Even at - no - especially at 30, I require some parental guidance. 

Separate issues, in the past two days, meant I would have the opportunity for advice from each of my parents. 

Mom's came in a loving, warranted way. A suggestion based on a sensitive subject in my comedy show that may have stirred up some emotion in a loved one due to recent tragedy. She was right. 

Dad's was, "if it was broken, you'd have two black eyes." 

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Strip Club

I carded a beautiful, young brunette. 

It's what I do. In my line of work, you must check the ID of anyone who appears to be under the age of 30. You have to be 18 to be in the store that I work in. 

It's sexy stuff. 

She was polite and immediately said, "I've seen you do improv, you're funny as hell."

This made my night. 

This made my night because I love compliments - because I'm a person - and because she said, "improv." 

She didn't say, "I've seen you perform," or, "I've seen you do comedy." She said , "improv."

Because of my recent venture with The GET, I assumed it was that and said, "wow, thank you. Recently?" And she replied, "no, a while ago, at The Onyx," 

This means it was over a year ago and she remembered me. She remembered me being, "funny as hell."

I don't like working the swing shift. Selfishly and unapologetically I have a personal life that is full and projects I am passionate about that work for most of my teammates and loved ones in the evenings. They have normal jobs that end at 5pm, leaving the evening hours open to write, rehearse, bond, build, etc. 

I'm also aware that my passion does not pay and, because I'm a person, I need to make work a priority. So in missing rehearsal for our weekly show, I was given this reminder of why I do what I love to do. 

I am exhausted and busy. I give myself no down time and even writing this blog, while grocery shopping, is hard to squeeze in. Between writing, rehearsing, shows several times a week, work, various forms of self improvement, free time is a luxury I will not afford myself right now. I accept full responsibility for how little of it I have. 

I rarely see my boyfriend, who, yesterday, I wanted to see and hold and comfort more than I have the whole time we have been together. He was the recipient of devastating news... as a loved one, it would have been nice to stop everything and be there for him. Alas, it wasn't a possibility. I also know he is surrounded by love and my absence will not break him. 

But I digress, the time I have is valuable and I choose to spend it with absolute love, a lot of which ends up being the craft I was recognized for. 

This life is so short and we are reminded every single day just how short it can be. How you spend your time is so fucking important to your health and your happiness. It's entirely up to you. 

Yes I'm tired - yes I look it - yes I just noticed it's been a week since I've washed my hair (I shower every day - please, to the three readers, know that) but I am making these choices. 

I hope that pretty, young stripper makes it to another one of my shows. 

Nope

Don't. Don't do it. 

Don't say the words you're thinking. 

Don't be honest

Any good, responsible person will advise against it  

Don't say, "I miss you." 

Don't let the person know. 

Do the opposite of what your gut tells you. 

You haven't done right up to this point so why do what you're being told to now?

Don't. 

If you don't learn from your mistakes you're hopeless. 

You've been wrong. A. Lot. 

Here you are doing it again.  

Difference is you expect nothing

So maybe we have learned. 

Just Two

The Get. 

First show. 

Sold out. 

Thank you. 

Wood Morning!

Sometimes it takes a pervert calling your place of employment to remind you that you, "sound hot and I have a giant, hard cock and love to lick pussy and I would love to lick your pussy. I bet you taste sweet. I bet it's so sweet. *panting - breathing - moaning*"

...and we lived happily ever after. 

Waiter, There's a Lemon Seed in Me...

Good service is so important to me. I don't care if I'm buying a blouse, perusing produce or sipping sarsaparilla (I love alliteration) you should be nice!

I will admit, however, that I believe a good sense of humor is a huge part of customer service. You don't have to be bubbly or sweet and I don't want a fake compliment; just be funny or, at the very least, laugh at my jokes.*

I often test my servers at restaurants. I don't test by ordering an insane amount of food or complicated drinks. I merely like to keep them on their toes. 

As a single gal with many male friends, going Dutch at an eatery was a common occurrence for me. There was always a moment when the server would ask if we saved room for dessert and then the, "are you ready for the check," eyes. 

Finally, I decided I had to make a move. 

In. That. Moment. 

"We'll take the check but you'll have to separate it because he just broke up with me." 

Does the server panic? Spill something? Console me? None of that matters - what matters is how that server responds a moment later when I laugh through the tension and assure them I'm just kidding. 

I've never had a bad reaction to this. Ask any of the guys that were with me...wait, they almost all turned into boyfriends and then turned into ex boyfriends. Don't ask them. 

The uncertainty in that tiny amount of time is so human and so real that it breaks any wall down between us and the person waiting on us. The reassurance when I tell them it's only a joke is intimate and their responses have been positive, relieved and friendly. Inevitably there is an explanation of how awkward they felt when I said that, sometimes even an anecdote about how that has actually happened to them (haha) and always they are more relaxed after. I am a good tipper and this exchange insures I remain one. 

My latest test is much easier to pull off - as it doesn't require a 1-on-1 dining scenario. 

I always order a water with lemon; not because I'm a bougie bitch but because I don't want to be bloated and it makes tap water taste less like pool urine. 

I've heard tap water tastes like pool urine. 

So when the server comes to take the meal order, I look right into their eyes. Very seriously, I say, "I swallowed a lemon seed. Is something bad going to happen to me?" 

So far, so good. I even had my next glass of water de-seeded the last time I did this. 

Good move, server. Good move. 

*my jokes may not always be laugh-worthy but when you're working for tips, all jokes are. 

Great Advice

Someone once told me that a blog entry doesn't have to be epic. 

It could be a mere sentence or two. 

Someone made this for me

Someone made this thing.. for me.

On my way out of the bar, after the show, he handed it to me and said, "This is for you."

"It" is a tiny, folded, paper bird that flaps its paper wings if you pull - gently - on its paper tail.
...and I did, after the disclaimer, "Don't pull too hard," which, I assure you, I wasn't in the first place.

I don't flatter myself to think this was made for me. I know he made this, very possibly, with no recipient in mind. He just made it.

And he? He is of zero significance. His lack of significance is quite significant in this story.

It's a night, here in Las Vegas, where an improv show happened. This show was richer and more successful than any other of the Monday night shows that precede. We had out of town talent and a packed house...what an improv show should be.

Vegas is not known for the underground, raw, brilliant and untapped talent. Go to NYC or LA and every bartender, server, mechanic is trying to make it. Vegas is too close to LA for any of that talent to be palpable - or is it?

And I'm a bartender, part time, in addition to my full time job. I can only now say I'm trying to make it. Through the years, after pressing and begging and inviting people to shows that I get to be a part of, those people have asked, "So, like, you wanna be famous?"

No. Fame can suck it. Fame means I can't have brunch with whatever "family" I'm destined to have without being interrupted. I do not want to be famous. But fuck yes I want to make it.

The making it is in the doing it. There was a class and set tonight, at said show, featuring someone I've never heard of. I've never heard of her - (bad improviser) - and I was still pumped. I knew it was going to be one of the most inspiring improv performances I've seen, merely from how excited those that have heard of her were. The energy and word of mouth from those I know, speak to, play with was proof enough that this show was not to be missed.

That's the making it.

I came home, I threw my chicken wings on the bed, I shed my jacket (Vegas is cold) and urinated and took my pants off - in.that.order.

I knew that the show tonight was special; all shows are special, you take away something from every single one. Sometimes you should've done something differently and sometimes you were really impressed with your teammate. Sometimes you were proud of your move and sometimes you wonder why you started improvising in the first place but there is always always always something special.

Sometimes strangers tell me I was the best one.

Sometimes I stand outside, awkwardly with no acknowledgment.

Sometimes my friends and I cannot wait to tell each other how brilliant we all were.

And sometimes you sit, in awe, of someone you have never heard of and think there is some realm of talent and being that you will never achieve - you admire and love them - strangers - you know it exists and a romantic part of you wishes "to be" one day but your realist knocks those hopes down and you just enjoy sitting at the bar while drinks are ordered and laughs are shared and you order your chicken wings to go because they aren't too unhealthy and you haven't eaten dinner and you cannot wait to get home and throw the wings in the fridge and take your pants off and pull the covers down on your bed (that you made this morning because you should) and drift into a serene state of comfortable sleep before bed. Content - it's okay, that talent is out there so it doesn't have to be me.

And you remember this gentle, fragile, beautiful paper bird that this person made - they made it, the effort and talent they gave to it - and for whatever reason - this person decided to give it to you. It may not have been made for you but it was absolutely, certainly, undeniably given to you. You were meant to have this piece of someone.

You meant that much to someone.

You. on stage tonight, meant that much to me.