10.12.2011

Katie Keller : Death of a Suburban Socialite

Well, I did it.  I maned up and went to Comedy Under The Tap last night.  I haven't been there since my Father's benefit show, and the time before that being my birthday.  I don't enjoy stand-up the way that I used to.  But a combination of things inspired me to go to last night's show.  I wanted to test the waters, see if maybe I would have a change of heart about comedians.  And no, nothing has changed on the comedy front.  I will say a couple comedians I haven't seen in a while were very gracious and went out of their way to acknowledge my recent disappearance and express their disappoint in not hearing my laugh through the crowd every Tuesday. 

But there is just no denying that it's not the same for me anymore.  I sat at the table furthest from the stage, alone. I spent more time scribbling down an outline for this here blog than I did actually laughing or engaging with the comedians.  I used to be the girl, front and center, that would go out of my way to be noticed by the man with the mic.  I would make it a point to be the loudest laugh and to participate in audience/comic banter.  It was what made me fall in love with comedy, being able to interact and feel like even though I wouldn't ever have the balls to get on stage and do it myself, I was still apart of something that I loved.

It was when I was swirling my wine and staring at a torn piece of notebook paper that it occurred to me; these changes are hardly about the local comedy scene.  I am just not that girl anymore.  I don't want to be front and center. I don't need that constant attention and validation from being apart of something.  And when the show came to a close, and a number of people insisted I come upstairs for a drink, I had no interest in being there any longer.  A year ago, you couldn't get me out of that bar before last call. 

I have the greatest memories of falling over Adam in the revolving door, nearly killing ourselves nonetheless.  The nights I spent chain smoking on the patio where a crowd of 10 or more comedians and bar regulars would listen to the epic stories of my life.  I had the attention of every last person in that bar when I called for everyone to take a shot.  Everyone knows 'Katie Keller'.  Everyone has a story of that night I got drunk and made out with them, or someone they know.  My laugh, my drunken tears, my overly confrontational personality.  The good, the bad, the ugly.  I was this larger than life personality that was the life of the party every night. 

In the immortal words of T.I. "the old me's dead and gone".  I not that person anymore. I will forever adore that girl I once was who didn't give a fuck what anyone else thought, and went big every time.  I wear those nights, every last one of them, as a separate badge of honor.  I once drove home from the bar in the trunk of my friend's car.  I have lived.  I have fallen on my ass, stuck my foot in my mouth, drank too much, thrown up in public bathrooms, and have played drunken millionaire more times that I can count.  And the heart of that person still exists.  But she would now rather captivate a room of 2 close friends over a bottle of wine than a room full of strangers and more red headed slut shots than she can count.

I am sure I will allow myself to play "KMFK" on special occasions in the future.  I am not about to go back to Vegas and enjoy a nice evening at Ceaser's sipping a glass of wine and playing video poker alone.  I am going to drink a magnum bottle of gray goose with my brothers, dance with foreigners, and throw up the next morning.  And I will never feel guilty about that.  But Vegas is Vegas.  Not any other Tuesday.

So, no, this isn't about comedy.  This is about looking for something more than I have ever found at the bottom of a draft beer. 

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