When I got to the Boiler Room for five minutes of open mike time, I sat down at a table with two other gentlemen. One of them was kind of familiar. I assumed it was someone I had seen do stand-up. He was drinking a three-olive Martini, which I thought was a little Pearl District for Old Town. I was sitting with Oscar winner Gus Van Sant, his suitcases, and his PA. He was talking moviemaking with his compatriot.
I was excited that the man behind a Drugstore Cowboy might see my five minutes of stand-up. Maybe he’d be impressed by a joke I was telling in German. Maybe he’d write a fantasy biography of my life, casting Nick Cave as my husband, and change my life forever.
When our long-suffering emcee Kevin Michael-Moore launched into a version of The Girl From Ipanema where said girl is legally blind, my new famous friend found his legs and left, his companion carrying his bags.
It was clear after his departure that every other comic had also noticed who it was, and had prepared a joke for him. Instead, we just told them to each other, like usual.
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