Another late blog today…but with a much better reason. Tonight, I got a last minute call to do stand-up. I guess some other comic had to cancel…I dunno the details, but it ends with me doing a set at the Crows Nest in Santa Cruz. I love this venue. When I first started, other comics would always talk about it like it was a horror show. I guess, crowds there can be rowdy, loud, and generally very hostile. I don’t know if it’s luck or if my particular brand of comedy clicks with that crowd, but that has never been the case for me. I’ve always had a great time at the Crow’s Nest. Tonight was no exception.
One of the perks of the room is that it is usually packed with very attractive college-age people. Half of those people are women. Obviously, I’m happily married, but good scenery is always appreciated. Tonight there were many lovely ladies in the crowd. Most of them were the typical stuck up looking gals who look like they want nothing to do with me. Which suits me just fine. I doubt they want to talk about their concerns about the Superman reboot, so it’s best we leave it at “thanks for coming to the show.”
However there was one gal tonight who I’m pretty sure was trying to send some signals my way. First off, when I was on stage she kept “wooing” at me. Which is not uncommon for drunk people, so I didn’t think much of it. Then during my “nerd” chunk, she kept screaming “I love nerds!” Well, I didn’t believe that for a second, so again I assumed she was just drunk and wanted to yell out.
After my set, I’m at the bar getting my free root beer (like a BOSS) and she comes up to me and says I was “the best comedian ever.” At this point it is clear that she is either really drunk or that the only comedians she has ever seen are me, Katt Williams, and Larry the Cable Guy. I say, “thanks,” and she shows me her drink and says, “wanna help me finish this?” Well first of all, clearly you want every drop of that, my dear. Second of all I do a five minute bit in my act about being married. I know you heard it, you were in the front row. But no problem, thanks to my lack of dentist visits and my love of Skittles, I now have a sure fire way to put an end to this nonsense. So I smile at here revealing my missing tooth (like a…failure). To my surprise and dismay, she does not run screaming, she edges in a little closer to that uncomfortable “in my personal space” bubble. Ladies, if a missing tooth doesn’t slow your roll, you are TOO drunk!
Fortunately, the bartender had my root beer at that moment so I grabbed it and said, “nice to meet you.” Then I went back to the other side of the bar.
Postscript: Later on I am watching the headliner’s set and I see the drunken lass again. She is sitting on some dude’s lap. After a few minutes I notice they are making out. The headliner is on stage telling jokes, the crowd is laughing, and these two are snogging up a storm. This lead me to wonder did she a) hook up with this fellow after things with “the best comic ever” didn’t work out? or b) come to the club with that guy and was our interaction doubly inappropriate? For fear of being sucked into her web of drunken debauchery, I did not find out which it was. After all, what is life without a little mystery?