Today started out normal enough. I woke up around 2:00pm, stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the light. Disoriented and longing for more sleep, I turned on the water to the shower and didn't quite process what happened next. I knew, intuitively, that something was wrong but I couldn't register exactly what it was. I pushed on with my early morning shower plans, since I had a big day ahead of me. There was the 3:00 meeting which I wanted to be clear-headed for, then a little bit of down time for writing my set, then another brief meeting, run out to my son's basketball game, and keep heading south for the show at the club downtown. My little downtime was not sufficient for writing a set of new material, but it would have to do, since there were other more pressing things to take care of today. I disrobed what little was left, and stepped into a dry shower. Baffled, I reached to turn the water on, only to find it was. You know that sinking feeling that hits you when you remember the thing that you kept meaning to do, but forgot, and now it's too late? That sensation that runs through your body like cold water mixed with a splash of self-loathing and regret? Yeah, THAT, was the only thing showering me this morning. Has it been that long since I paid the water bill? Apparently. What's better is that every minute of the rest of the afternoon, I kept forgetting that the water was off, so I started my routine sans douche, only to realize that the deposit I had made in the toilet would be there for awhile, my hands would bear the evidence, and my dishes, drinks and oral hygiene would only serve as painful reminders of both my waterlessness and poor short term memory.
It takes way too long to realize that the remedy for my situation has to be swift, since the rest of the day is already packed. I rushed out the door, thirsty, unclean and generally malodorous. Lucky for me, I was headed to the city utilities office, so I fit in pretty well. Naturally, the line wrapped around the waiting area and backed up to the entrance doors. Even worse, the line wasn't moving a bit. I stood in line, like so many others, losing patience. Some left, which was the only reason the line moved at all. Meanwhile, someone somewhere was having a great, late afternoon lunch or perhaps a delightful conversation at the office water cooler rather than working at the front desk. I've never understood the purpose of this desk. Apparently, we have to wait in line -to tell someone what we need- who can do nothing about it. It is her job to listen and ask lots of questions, then promptly tell us to sit down and wait for someone else to help us. There were a handful of these "someone elses" sitting at their desks with nothing to do, because the useless woman at the desk was not there to tell people she can't help them. After several people began yelling, one of the genius someones decided perhaps she could do the thing she would have done if the woman was there to tell her to do it, and she began to help the people waiting in line. Glorious.
Excruciating as it was, my two and a half minute task was handled in under an hour and I was off to my 3:00 meeting with the hope that at some point I might get to have a shower before show time.
Meeting went well, and I rushed home to wait for the next brief meeting, which was coming to my apartment. 15 minutes late, but otherwise the second meeting went well. Money was handed to me, which always lifts my spirits. By the time the water was back on I had no time for a shower, lest I miss my son's game. So off I went, hastily grabbing my notebook and a few bits I had started while pacing around the apartment waiting. I caught just a few shots, gave a high five and a few congratulatory hollers before I had to leave the game, waiting until the last possible moment to run into the club for the pre-show meeting.
Typically I have an idea of jokes I want to try out, usually arranged in some order that makes sense, so that my set can flow naturally. Tonight, I had just a few jokes, not nearly enough, and none of it had any flow to it. By this point, it really should have been memorized well enough to deliver naturally. Instead, it is scribbled onto a notepad which I bring on stage with me for the inevitable moment I freeze. It happens, as I expected, but not until the very last joke. I had prepped the audience for the first of two successive punch lines, but realized that the second would not have impact because I had failed to set up the (callback) joke earlier in the set. It was too late. My big ender was going to fall flat. I paused to read my notes, hoping there was something I could pull out to close instead. Nothing. I put my energy into the last punch, impersonating a fictitious bank teller-from-the-future with all the enthusiasm I could muster, and said my good-byes.
It was a contest night and I had decided to cancel my set twice already, then changed my mind. With all the turmoil today, it just didn't make sense to spend the time and gas going to a club that wasn't going to pay me to deliver a set I hadn't prepared. They called my name to mediocre applause and, moments later, announced it again as a finalist. Some of the comics sharing the stage with me tonight are guys (and a girl) I have watched many times over. Respected, trusted, and extremely talented. It is an honor just to be on the stage with them, but to be singled out among them, really surprised me. My first thought was, O crap, I've got to clear my schedule next week. I had decided to focus on another show coming up, and not ask my friends to come out to another show, since so many are planning to attend the "big one" next week at the casino. Now, the stakes are raised and I've got the Finals, just two days before the big casino show, and I have no idea how I even landed this opportunity. Glorious.
