Josie and I went to my friend's kid's bar-mitsvah yesterday. After the service, (which I think may still be going on) they had a reception in a tent outside the temple.
I've never been good at small talk. I really don't care about how your kids know the bar-mitsvah boy nor how wonderful it is that everyone in your affluent suburban neighborhood get along so well.
And it's not cause I'm narcissitic either. I don't wanna discuss Regulatory Accounting or my life a stand-up comic. (Interestingly, since I started doing stand-up, I think I've actually gotten worse. Why? I think it's because I feel more pressure to be funny.)
During a moment to ourselves, Josie told me she's not good at small talk either (though she later admitted she lied, just to make me feel better about being a loser).
ANYWAY, we decided to practice on each other. This worked out as well as anyone who knows us would predict...
Me: Sooo, ummm, how do you know the bar-mitsvah boy?
Josie: We dated.
Me: Huh?
Josie: Briefly...he broke it off...I was devastated.
Me: C'mon! Be serious!
Josie: Fine...so how do you know the bar-mitsvah boy?
Me: We're in the same math class.
Man, I can't wait for the next bar-mitsvah.
Rock On,
Aitch
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