“Holy shit. She’s writing again,” you think to yourself. Fuck, even I’m shocked. I’ve managed to do nothing but slack this summer, a skill I learned when school let out every June. But I’m here now. Call it September “Back to School” motivation, or something(without the school, of course.)
I’m in Ottawa right now. The birth place of my stand up career. It was in this city, many years ago, a fraternity guy we called “Spicolli” (in reference to Fast Times at Ridgemont High) told me I should try Stand Up Comedy. That’s all it took for me to get involved with this sport. Of course, comedy wasn’t the only thing Frat guys convinced me into doing, but let’s stick to the theme of this blog… for now.
Yesterday morning I woke up bright and early, to not only catch my 9:30 train, but also to pack. I leave everything ’til the last minute. I purposely don’t pack the toothpaste, because last time I took the tube with me, my boyfriend just brushed his teeth with water all week. I’ll buy some later. (I will also forget to pack face wash and anything to do with shaving, but I won’t realize that til later.)
At Union Station, I text the headliner, see if he’s en route. He texts back, saying he’s taking the bus-it’s cheaper, then refers to me as a “Baller,” a term I love. I text back, “It’s probably for the best. I’m eating tuna anyway.” I chase the tuna with an extra large coffee from Second Cup, then fall asleep on the train. I’m sure that place has faulty caffeine. Their coffee never wakes me up.
In Ottawa, I check into townhouse reserved for the out of town comics. My roommates this weekend are awesome. Funny and cool. The headliner and I decide to check in to the Heart and Crown for dinner. I chose not to be a vegetarian, and have my favourite road dinner: beer and wings. Three beers and six chicken wings later, it’s half an hour to show time. Crap. Better run.
Elgin Street. A place that holds many memories for me, none of which pertaining to comedy. The old Yuk Yuk’s was up on Albert St, but these days it resides in the old Bytowne Tavern, a basement bar where I used to enjoy karaoke and 10 cent wing night as a student. I check in with the manager, who is like my comedy father. He gave me my first break as a stand up, which I am grateful for. I hope I don’t smell like beer.
I’m doing 25 minutes tonight. Crap. I haven’t done comedy in a few weeks. Better bust open my notebook. I say hi to the host, and my other comedian friends who are on the show. It’s seriously a great line up. The crowd is young. I decide to do a new cocaine joke. Just trying to stay edgy and young people. Not actually partaking in any. I try to do a new joke everytime I hit the stage, though some nights that’s just not possible. When a crowd is uptight, I stick to the greatest hits.
I’m on third. The crowd is definitely fun. I get an applause break for my opening bit(a joke I just won an XM radio contest with- not trying to brag, but since I never have anything to brag about, I might as well drop it in:) After the show, the sassy Latino comic on the show, whom is hilarious and says “Hot Diggity” even better than I do, wants to take some pictures. She mentions how she was sad when Irwin Barker(one of Canada’s best comics of all time) passed away, and she didn’t have any pictures of him. It’s a good point. Comics travel and work with so many great people, but we don’t have that camera crazed obsession that Asians have. I agree we should take some pictures.
After wrapping, it’s time for comic bonding at Lieutenant’s Pump, a pub down the road that I probably can’t spell properly. Later we return to the townhouse(checking in on Foursquare all the way, obvi) and end up in an impromtu You Tube party. Nobody has any pot, which is a shocker for a house full of comics. Either way, that “Hide your wife, hide your kids” music video with that guy from the Detroit News is pretty funny.
And now I’m blogging. Good for me, eh? Anybody actually waiting for one of these? Probably not, but this writing kept me off those deluxe looking patios on Clarence Street today. I didn’t even remember my sign in name and password on this website! I had to look it up. Come to think of it, the guy who set up this blog site told me I could change my name and password, which I haven’t done. I wonder if he’s ever considered hacking in, and pretending to be me… I doubt it… but if anybody finds this blog boring, I’m John Breton, signing off.