Monday, June 24, 2013

LOOK AT ME


As a performer, people constantly ask me, “Do you ever feel like you are constantly on?”  I generally respond, “WHOOOO MEEEEEE?  WHAT CARE I FOR GLAMOUR? ON? OFF? ALL THE WORLD’S A STAGE AND I MERELY A BEAUTIFUL PLAYER.”  And then I punch myself in the face. 

Being “on” can be very helpful in some situations.  For example, I have always had an easy time talking to new people.  You can constantly finding me chatting it up with the nearest old gay man in the super market.  However, there are situations where my “vivaciousness,” let’s call it that, isn’t necessarily the most helpful. 

I am starting to slowly realize I need to remember each date I go on is not a performance of my one-woman show, "Look at me. Look at me. I'm hilarious." As a performer, (second time I’ve started a sentence like that, you’re welcome) being provided with a (semi) captive audience, my immediate inclination is to razzle dazzle them. You wanna talk about food? I've got plenty of jokes about food! One time I ate Guinea pig! You saw a musical once? Well, sit back and let me tell you the history of the golden age of theatre. You wanna joke about episodes of law and order? One time I went to SVU because my friend was groped on the street and we looked at pictures of possible suspects and there were a lot of Hispanic trannies and they locked me in one of those rooms where you know people are watching on the other side! (That one never quite lands the way I want it to.  After much testing, I think this story might need to be edited out of my repertoire.  It just never gets the response I desire.  Which is anything but shock and fear). 

My main issue is that I am a laugh whore. Not any other kind, ya creepos. Once I know I've got someone hooked, LET THE JOKES BEGIN. If I can tell you think I'm funny, my Comedy Central standup special begins and you didn't even have a chance to change the channel. It’s great for my dates.  They get a free show and all they had to do was buy me a $4 PBR.  But then they leave thinking, what a hilarious play I just enjoyed! I thought perhaps this was a date, but really it was a piece of art! The actress in that was fabulous! She really should have a career in the theatre!  And then they step outside and see a 10 foot tall Russian girl and it’s OH HELLO MODEL LADY BE MY WIFE.  And then they will see me on TV in 5 years and have a faint memory of my Law and Order tales AND FEEL DEEP REGRET.  KISS MY SWAG. 

Aside: kiss my swag is a new phrase I have learned.  I’m not 100% sure what it means, but I will be shouting it from rooftops across the city this summer.  And punching myself in the face for each time I do.  KISS MY SWAAAAAAAG HATERS. 

Here’s the deal: I don't monopolize the conversation, I promise you that. If anything, I'm overly interested and straight up interrogating the other person. I WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING. And I hate silence so GET READY because the questions are coming.  I’m a nosy bitch and I want to know what your deal is.  Is that so much to ask?  JUST TALK TO ME ABOUT HOARDERS AND BOB’S BURGERS AND BABY PIGEONS AND FUN PRANKS YOUR GREATEST FEARS AND DEEPEST SECRETS.




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