Yet More Open Mic Madness!

Went to the weirdest open mic I've ever been to on Saturday afternoon. It was in the back of a cafe in Chelsea. Not merely just for comics, this mic was for poets, musicians, whomever.

There were about ten of us. I went first...did okay, whatever. The next guy gets up. Since I joked about Queens College, he said that he went there 30 years ago for their modern dance classes. He then proceeded to show us what he learned. His steps seemed familiar though I couldn't place it. After about two minutes of dancing (no music of course), he bows. The host said, "So they taught you the Electric Slide?" Since we each had ten minutes, he then sung a song by Billie Holiday.

The hostess hugged him as he was getting offstage because she "just loves giving hugs - they're free and awesome."

The next dude got up. Well, not literally, as he immediately went to all fours when his name was called. He proceeded to crawl to the stage while grunting. Eventually he got up and started running from one end of the room to the other, explaining that he loves space and freedom. I was beginning to wonder if freedom is such a good thing. He finished by blowing kisses at us while telling us that we loved all of us and that he hoped that one day soon, we could all have an orgy at The Rose Bowl. An orgy of 100,000 people where love would rule the day. I vomited in my mouth.

Then this interpretive dancer/poet got up. He apparently ran from Boston to get there since he was sweating the whole time we were there. Anyway, he did his dancing thing while reciting some nonsensical crap fro ten minutes.

Naturally he asked for a hug when he got off stage too.

Towards the end, the hostess, this heavyset new-agey chick explained that we were up to the Question of the Week segment - she went on a rambling diatribe about how people talk but not about the important, personal stuff. She explained how she hasn't spoken to her brother in ten years, but even when she did, it was all "Nice weather, huh" kinda stuff and they never delved into their emotions, their feelings (By the way, my feeling at this point was "nausea.")

She then went around the room and asked everyone to answer, "How personal do you like to get to know people?"

Mr. Dancer claimed, as he looked around the room, that being a dancer he could see all the unhappiness. He obviously missed my mug or he woulda seen "ridicule." Of course all the poets babbled on about how they LOVE getting to know people and what makes them tick, and how they perceive life, etc. I was last to answer...

"To be honest, I really don't care."

On that note, she moved onto the next act.

Rock On,

Aitch