Saturday, September 24, 2011

One-Night Stand... Sort Of Monday, 16th June




So I was at the big Joe Franklin’s show last Saturday night. Completely sold out. There’s a good vibe on Saturday night. If you haven’t gone yet, be sure to make reservations and check it out before the end of the summer. Anyways, I would like to address a question which I have been asked many times by my non-comic allies. Do comics get laid? Particularly, do comics get laid after shows with random audience members? I’m not sure what the fascination is with comics having sex. Perhaps it fulfills some sort of penthouse fantasy or maybe people are just curious about a comedian’s breeding habits. The answer to this is yes. Funny guys get laid. Funny girls get laid, but I don’t see it as much. I’m sure there’s a scientific formula to explain it. Guy gets lots of laughs in front of big audiences. Girl impressed. Guys hooks up with girl at bar. Guy takes her home for the night. Guy writes s***** joke the next day on why women put on chapstick before going to bed, etc.. etc…

The second question I often get is “Tarun, have you ever had a comedy one-night stand?” The answer is no. I have never had a one-night stand with a random audience member. Although I have had a few memorable experiences, and face incredible pressure from my peers to “close the deal” as if me having sex makes up for their lack of sexual inadequacy. I remember walking a 23-year-old girl home after a show, when her lunchbox (that’s right lunchbox, ‘Superman’ if I remember correctly) popped open and codeine pills fell onto the pavement. It was like watching a chipmunk scamper after nuts before the big snowstorm. I imagined the look on my parents face when I brought my new bride home and codeine pills spilled out of her knapsack and onto the kitchen floor. Or the time I gave my phone number to a girl after a show, and she called me obsessively, leaving messages on my answering instructing me how to build floor cabinets. We were not meant to be.

So yesterday was another night for the record books. Comedian Mike Tsirklin brought two friends from acting class to last night’s show. “Tarun, they want to meet you.” Great, great, great. Another comedy floozy to get drunk with and more mental demons telling me that this is completely wrong. I was quite surprised when I approached the bar and found one of the girls to be decent looking! Definite plus. Even more interesting, the girl was somewhat intelligent. Plus, plus! A sauntering comic stopped and whispered into my ear, “You had a good set. You can parlay it into a blowjob.” Thank-you, Shakespeare. I cleansed this thought from my mind and the night continued.

By the time we hit the first bar I realized this girl was a lot different than the other comedy groupies who I’ve gone out with. Firstly, I wasn’t thinking how do I get rid of her, which I usually think around the 2:00am. Secondly, I was striking out… hard. She made no attempt to start conversation, made no eye contact, and was frequently distracted by a homeless man outside the window. I picked it up a notch. We stood amidst an ocean of people, drinks in hand, standing our ground against the flowing traffic moving across the room. “I’m tired, ” she whined. Go, Tarun. Go. I wrestled my way to the end of the room, grabbed a chair from an overcrowded table, dragged it back, and set it in front of her. “You’re only 24?” She asked incredulously. “You look old!” It was going to be a rough night.

By the time we hit the second bar, I was making no headway with this girl, and was stuck listening to her sob story about her estrangement from her Pakistani family. I should have won an Oscar for my part as the “sensitive” guy. I put my hand on her lap and took in the moment. “I’m sorry to hear that.” I replied. She rolled her eyes. Damn!

At certain times in the night, if things aren’t going as planned, a guy has to revaluate the situation. Do I smell? No, I showered before the show. Do I have bad breath? No, a quick check proved that I was OK. Am I losing my charm? Not humanly possible. I sat at my wits end. It didn’t make any sense. It was nearly 4:00am. This is the part where I’m making up excuses to the girl explaining why I can’t go home with her. I looked at Mike in bewilderment. Mike asked, “Would you take Tarun home with you.” Both girls answered without flinch, “I don’t trust you.”

According to Websters dictionary:

Trust: Firm reliance on the integrity, ability, or character of a person or thing.

Integrity: Steadfast adherence to a strict moral or ethical code.

Ethics: A set of principles of right conduct. 


It dawned on me that I have spent most of my life proudly conducting my everyday existence to a set high moral standards and was now willing to wash it away for a quick h****** in the bathroom.

“Mike, lets go.”

Around 5:30 am I sat in Hans 24-7 diner with Mike Tsirklin eating pancakes and recapping the night when Adam Hunter, fresh from his LA tour, joined us.

“How was the night?” he asked.

“Great.” I answered. “Sold out shows and we went out with two girls.”

“Worthwhile?”

I let it sit for a second and thought about it. “Yeah, I got out a new joke. The people liked it.” A definite worthwhile night of comedy. 

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