indifference

I had an argument
last night with a girl
who looked me in the eyes
after my show and said,

"you're the worst"

ouch.

It wasn't for anyone's
benefit or to make anyone
laugh, it was just her true
feelings for me.

ouch.

She was upset,
because I had been
making fun of her friend.

A dude in a green polo,
who sat in the very front
next to the stage,
with his back to me,
talking away to his buddies.

I realized last night
that I can deal with a lot
of responses.

Indifference is the one
that really drives me nuts.

You can love my show or hate my show,
but there is no way that it's boring.

I don't mind if you leave,
or sit through it and think
it's horrible, or if it's
in a noisy bar like last night,
just move to the back.

But to sit in the very front,
with your back flat to my face,
talking to someone,
what did they expect?

What was I supposed to do?

I believe comedy comes
from a combination of pressure
and release, tension!

Tension comes from focus,
blah blah blah....
you can't do it with someone
right in front of you talking.

I asked them to move,
and that's what I argued with
the girl about at the end of the night.

After she told me I was the worst.

She said,
"but we weren't here to see the show"

I know that, you don't have to remind me.
but there was a decent number of people
who were here to see the show,
and I'm going to do the show whether you like it or not,
and afterward, I'll leave.

but in the meantime,
just move to the back.

"why... we were talking
and we had a nice table up front?"

Are you joking?
You can't sit at the front
table if you're just going to talk
the whole time and not have any
interest in the show. I'm not hurt,
or insulted, I honestly don't care,
but you just can't sit there.

"but we weren't here to see the show."

oh, you're a ....ing moron,
I didn't realize, sorry.

All of it got pretty ugly,
and then a bachlorette party
of..... 30! hot girls came into the bar.


I tell ya,
nothing eases tension
like a group of 30 drunk chicks
working together.

So I sang and danced with them,
and all was gay and happy,
and we got the show back on track,
at least sort of.

And the offender in the green polo left,
and his seat was vacant.

And the bachlorette girls left,
and the seat remained vacant,
and all returned to calm and quiet.

And then this poor,
nice, unsuspecting new guy
came in and sat in that same
seat that for some reason was
still 2 feet in front of the stage,
with it's back to me.

Oh you poor devil.

-p