I May Be Bi-Polar

So I woke up yesterday tired. The kind of tired that makes you tell your dog that he's gonna have to find a way to walk himself. But I got up.

Long story/short, I took a half day at work so I could play with Stewie, before heading out to Jersey for a show at a restaurant. When I got to work, I figured that I should prolly find out how I'm getting to the gig.

I found out that though I could take a bus out there, they stop running at 9:30, well before the show ends. Swell. I figured that worst comes to worst, I'll take a car service home.

Cut to me on the bus going there:

"This is it. I can't do this anymore. What the heck do I need this for? I gotta travel an hour and a half each way, and hang out for a two hour show, for 15 minutes of stage time and $55?!? And I don't even know how I'm getting home?!? I'm too old for this crap. This is it."

So, I got there. The restaurant was packed. They served me dinner (pork tenderloin with some pineappley stuff and rice) and Davin (the producer of the show) procured a ride for me, at least to The Bronx, with another comic.

As the MC, I went first. The crowd, about 100 people, dug me. Not like last Wednesday (I dont think I'll ever get five applause breaks in my life), but they dug me. After getting off, Davin shakes my hand, pays me ($55), and tells me that he'll definitely use me again and will recommend me to others. I went to the bar and got some (free!) Key Lime Pie while the next comic does his thing.

"Wow...that was great. Though the traveling is bad, I'm definitely on a high that's carry me into tomorrow. And isn't feeling good about something you've done what it's all about? And I made people laugh. I'm performing a very real service. I'm a humanitarian and getting paid for it!"

I got the next guy (Tom) offstage and introduced the headliner. Tom was the guy who was gonna gimmee a life to the train in The Bronx. He wanted to hang out to sell some DVD's after the show. So we wait for the headliner to finish.

And we wait...and wait...and wait...and wait...and wait.

After an hour, with no end in sight, Tom figured that the headliner killed any potential sales anyway, so we headed out (I was told that I didn't have to close the show).

Tom and I weren't too sure about where exactly he was dropping me off. All we knew was "There's an 'A' train right after you get over the George Washington Bridge." Naturally, we missed the exit...so we're driving in The Bronx...he just wants to unload me and I felt guilty. I told him to just take the next exit and I'd figure out how to get home. He was happy to oblige (usually, the MC drives the other acts...not the other way around).

Thankfully, when we got off on Jerome Ave (?), there was a 4 train right there. Couple of shady looking characters hanging so I unbuttoned my dress shirt (cause, you know, that makes me tougher... oh, shut up, you!). I made it to the elevated platform. I was exhausted, it was almost 12, pretty cold outside, and I was taking a train in The Bronx.

"This is brutal. I can't do this. I should be home, playing with my pup, or sleeping. Jeez, when was the last time I slept eight hours? Months...."

The train came, I got a great connection to the 'B", which went express to 59th Street. Walked home and was greeted by an ecstatic Stewie. We played for half hour before turning in around 1.

"That wasn't so bad. I felt like I accomplished something. I had fun, and I even got paid. Awesome."

I woke up this morning exhausted. And I have another gig in Jersey tonight.

Rock On,

Aitch