THE REAL LJ IDOL SEASON 9 -- WEEK 8: Yes, And...
LAUGH TRACK: A TALE OF THE CITY
Bonnie smiled the way only she could. "So, Paul... Wanna visit a comedy club, my treat?"
More than a little surprised and nervous as hell, I stammered, "Uhhhh... sure!"
And this is how the story starts: With a pretty lady asking me to accompany her out on the town. Although to be completely accurate, it had *REALLY* begun not quite a year earlier, when I started working for the New York State Division of Housing. Though I had been hired to work in one of their New York City offices, the agency sent me to Albany for a week of training... and that's where I met Bonnie. She usually worked upstate, but every couple of months the job would send her to NYC for a week.
Bonnie called me before each visit, as she enjoyed the theater and knew I had ways of getting discounted show tickets and was more than willing to attend each performance with her... and as this was in the early 1990s, there were quite a few fine Broadway shows to choose from. I had always been a gentleman on our previous outings, but I won't deny that I secretly desired a closer relationship with her. Admittedly I really didn’t know much about Bonnie, other than:
(A) She was smart,
(B) She was a computer professional, and
(C) She was very pleasant to be around.
Despite my interest I had never pursued the lady because she lived about 150 miles away, and as much as I enjoyed her company I had sworn to myself never to get into a long-distance relationship. On the other hand, in recent months rumors had started circulating around the agency that a position would soon be opening up in the Albany office... a position I might be able to transfer into. Perhaps Bonnie’s suggestion for a “change of venue” was a sign she might be interested in getting to know me better... and that at least one person would welcome me if I transferred to Albany.
When Bonnie and I arrived at the comedy club that evening there was a bit of a crowd out front; their opening act was considered to be a rising star. On top of that it was Open Mic night, and people were signing up for a turn in the spotlight and a chance to win a $1000 prize if they were voted funniest act of the night.
"You should do it!" Bonnie slyly winked at me. "You can be an extremely funny guy!"
"No way in Hell!" How could she even suggest such a thing? "I'm sure I'd get tongue-tied! Besides, I overheard that so many folks have already signed up for tonight that anyone registering now won't get on stage before midnight... and we both have to work in the morning! Just put that crazy idea out of your mind, OK?"
So we walked into the place after Bonnie paid the cover charge and we grabbed a couple of drinks at the bar. It was a cabaret-style theater, and the EmCee was up in the spotlight, trying to warm up the crowd by talking to various audience members. As Bonnie and I got seated at our table, our host clearly directed his gaze at me and said "Hi! What's your name?"
I dismissively waved my hand, indicating that I did not want to be any part of the pre-show festivities... but the EmCee would not be dissuaded. "Come on; what's the name of you and your date?"
I never much liked my real name... so I went with the first alias that sprang to mind, obvious though it was: "We're Bonnie and... Clyde."
Bonnie grinned as giggles emanated from various parts of the audience and the EmCee arched his eyebrows. "Seriously?"
I nodded. "Absolutely! I'm Bonnie and she's Clyde!"
The audience switched from giggling to chuckling, and Bonnie snickered at my silliness. I honestly thought what I had said would get the EmCee to leave me alone as I obviously was not going to give him a straight answer... but the man kept digging. "Come on, what's your name, really?"
Once more I tried to fend the EmCee off. "You said it -- My name is 'Really'. Why are you asking for my name if you already know it?" I turned away from the stage to clearly indicate I didn't want to continue this game. But Bonnie was now laughing heartily, along with the rest of the crowd.
Unfazed, the EmCee continued his interrogation. "Just tell me, would you! What are your names?"
OK, the man with the microphone won't take 'No' for an answer. Maybe telling the truth will get him off my back. "Alright, you got me -- I'm not Bonnie... but she is."
"Come on! You expect me to believe that?"
"It's the truth." My tone clearly indicated I was no longer joking. "Her name really is Bonnie... but my name's not Clyde, it's Paul."
The EmCee nodded at my concession. "And what do you do for a living, Paul?"
I shrugged and told him what I told everyone who asked me that question: "Oh, I don't do anything, really -- I just sit around all day goofing off, and the state sends me a check every couple of weeks."
The EmCee cocked his head. "So you're unemployed?"
"No, I have a job with the state government."
Guffaws erupted from the audience, along with a smattering of applause. Bonnie gently slapped my arm, but her smile was dazzling and her laughter was genuine.
The EmCee kept after me. "So what do you do for the government, Paul?"
"I just told you -- as little as possible." When the latest round of laughter quieted down I added: "My official title is 'Computer Programmer'."
"Computers, huh?" The EmCee grinned nastily and tried to cut me down to size. "Is it true that your disk is all 'floppy'?"
I immediately narrowed my eyes and growled back: "Be careful how you talk about my hardware!"
"oooOOOOOooo!" The crowd obviously liked how I defended myself against the EmCee's insinuation... yet the man continued to tangle with me: "I hear you have to measure it in megabytes--"
"*THANK* you!" My grin clearly indicated that I was deeply pleased with his description. The EmCee's reaction was one of utter confusion... so I figured I'd educate the man. "You obviously have no clue how large a megabyte is. It's so big--"
I wracked my brain for a suitable simile while the crowd chanted "HOW BIG *IS* IT?"
"... It's so big... that... it takes all night to download from America Online. You hear me? It goes all... NIGHT... *LONG*!"
The audience practically exploded with their applause and their wolf-whistles. Tears of laughter were streaming from Bonnie's eyes... and that meant far more to me than the adulation of the crowd.
When things quieted down, the EmCee started addressing me in a respectful tone. "Well, you're obviously a smart guy, Paul. By the way, your shoelace is untied." When I glanced down he crowed "MADE YOU LOOK!"
I acknowledged his having caught me with one of the oldest (not to mention lamest) schoolyard gags ever by reminding everyone in the room of the true status of our verbal duel: "Score now, 7 to 1!"
"oooOOOOOooo!" The crowd chorused their support again... and the EmCee *FINALLY* decided to leave me alone. "Well, folks, I see by the clock on the wall that it's time for our headline act of the night. You may have seen him at the movies, as he recently played the mugger in the hit film GHOST. Give it up for--"
As the star comedian took the stage, Bonnie turned to me and whispered "Didn't I say you could be funny?"
"Pshaw!" As much as I appreciated her praise, I negated the compliment. "I'm just an amateur. Let's see how a professional works the room."
So this respected stand-up comedian took the microphone... and for the first half of his session the man's mind went completely blank. Really, it was pitiful. He did put in a few good gags toward the end, but for an uncomfortably long time he just meandered around the stage, desperately trying to think of something funny to say, all the while mock crying in frustration. Then again, maybe it wasn't all "mock" crying. Not that I really blame the man; I'm sure I'd have done no better if I had been dragged into the spotlight...
After that debacle, Open Mic Night formally began... but the entertainment didn't get any better. I won't claim I was the only funny guy in the room, but it wouldn't be a stretch to say that mine was the most memorable performance that evening. At one point I briefly excused myself from Bonnie to go answer Nature's call, and as I was walking to the little room in back I heard a trio of female voices yell out "Hey look, it's *PAUL*!" I glanced over to see three sweet young things sitting together at a table without any male companionship... and their smiles were unambiguous invitations.
I won't deny certain thoughts crossed my mind -- I was, after all, a heterosexual male with a pulse (plus I had more than a little alcohol in me)... but I was also a gentleman, and when a gentleman escorts a lady to a club he does not leave her to go consort with other women. So I gave the three sweet young things a friendly wave but continued on my way, performed an act that no one else could do for me, washed my hands and immediately returned to Bonnie's side as we tried our best to enjoy the rest of the show... mediocre though it was.
We left the club at about 11:30 PM -- there were still at least a dozen other performers scheduled, but we just couldn't afford to stay out any later. The subways were a mess for some reason, so it was well after midnight by the time I escorted Bonnie into the lobby of her hotel. I honestly wasn't expecting to be invited in, but perhaps a kiss might be in the cards--
"I had a fun time, Paul!" Bonnie's smile, as always, was enticing. "I really appreciate it; I never would have gone to a place like that on my own. Now I really gotta run upstairs. I promised my fiance I'd call when I got back to my hotel; he's got to be worried sick by now."
Fiance?
*RIMSHOT*
Of course a lady this fine is already taken... and I, clueless as usual, had completely misinterpreted her innocent, friendly gestures to a colleague as signs of a budding romance. Guess the joke was on me...
So I said my goodbyes to Bonnie and did my best to hide my crestfallen reaction from her as I went out to take an hour-long subway ride home.
And this is how the story ends, with me riding in an empty train car in the dead of night, exhausted and heart-broken, not to mention still slightly tipsy. I was so bummed out over my dashed expectations that I barely noticed when a couple of young men entered my train car... though I did get a sense that something was wrong just before the pair of them walked up to where I was sitting and started punching me in the face.
You hear about such things happening to other people but you never imagine that it can happen to you. In retrospect, I'm sure that this style of mugging was a far more common occurrence than anyone would care to admit; such incidents only get reported on the evening news if someone ends up in the morgue...
And this is how the story ends: with me getting pummeled unconscious and beaten to a bloody pulp because I forgot the cardinal rule of living in The Big City --- Never ride in an empty subway car, as that just sets you up as prime mugger bait. So let us leave our protagonist to his well-deserved fate for being such a stupid idiot, possibly ending up dead just like Patrick Swayze did in GHOST and fuck that shit I demand a rewrite.
So I stood up. Which wasn't particularly easy with the beating I was receiving... but to the surprise of everyone involved, I actually succeeded. More surprisingly, I started fighting back... rather successfully I might add. I'm still amazed I did so well, considering I'm an avowed pacifist and honestly can't recall ever using my fists in anger prior to that date. On the other hand, I am the same size as Bad, Bad Leroy Brown and therefore weighed about as much as both of the muggers put together. Throw in that I was still mildly drunk (which dulled my pain but didn't affect my coordination much) and factor in the adrenaline surging through my veins, and... Well, I can't honestly claim that I wiped the floor with the bastards, but I think it would be fair to call the encounter a draw:
As we pulled into a station, one of the muggers reached for his back pocket as if to pull a switchblade and challenged me to "come and get it". Looking back in hindsight I now realize that if the mugger actually had a knife he would have used it at the start of the fight... but at the time my reasoning capabilities weren't at their best, due to a combination of exhaustion, intoxication and the adrenaline rush I was experiencing... not to mention that I had recently taken several blows to the head. Still, when the train doors opened I didn't run onto the platform -- rather, I stepped off the subway car warily, my gaze focused on the muggers, ready to defend myself... and I didn't relax until the train pulled away with the thugs still on board.
So I got out of that situation with my health, wallet and dignity intact. Mind you, I lost my eyeglasses in the scuffle, which cost far more to replace than the money I had in my wallet at the time... but I suppose there's something to be said for my defending myself instead of crumpling in a heap when those assholes attacked me. Hell, I even went to work as usual later that morning, as my facial bruising was so mild that it was barely noticeable -- I was more wrung out from the lack of sleep than from any physical injury. And seeing Bonnie again cheered my spirits quite a bit, even though I now knew our relationship would remain purely platonic.
And this is how the story...
Ellakite would like to apologize to those folks who started reading this tale believing it was a true story but have since determined that it's actually the plot of a typical Ben Stiller movie. That is, he would like to apologize... but is unable to. Because as fantastic as it may seem, this tale is an accurate account of what happened to him during a particular 24-hour period in 1991.
Every. Goddamn. Word.
-- "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."
--- Charles Dickens
---- A TALE OF TWO CITIES
This post is an entry for THE REAL LJ IDOL SEASON 9, WEEK 8. It was based on the prompt "Yes, And..." If you enjoyed reading it, please vote for it by clicking here. My check box is 13th from the top.