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.
No comments:
Post a Comment