A long-ish story with an unexpected conclusion
So, last March or so I got to work with one of my favorite comedians, Jon Dore at the San Francisco Punch Line. If you aren't familiar with Jon Dore, please get the fuck familiar with him. He's a silly person who also also happens to be Canadian and is thee funniest comedian I've ever seen live, let alone performed with. (He has a show on Comedy Central right now called "Big Questions, Huge Answers with Jon Dore")
We were doing a three-night run, which started on a Thursday. Well, after the show, I had a few drinks at the Punch Line bar and was well on my to feeling dizzy for a while. Once the club bar closed down, Jon went back to his room. I was bored, so me and a few of the Punch Line staff decided to go drink more. We drank and drank and then, I drank more drank. Sucking down as many nasty shots of Fernet as I could, I soon realized that I would not be driving home (back to Sacramento) 90 minute jaunt btw. I don't know why I kept drinking Frenet, as it tastes like vase water, but I did. I was so intoxicated that I just had to trust the Uber driver would take me to where I thought my car was.
Anyhow, I get to my car and notice that it was parked in a zone that is restricted between the hours of 3am and 6am for street sweeping. San Francisco is a garbage place when it comes to parking and I wouldn't mind if it ate all the bad parts of my taint. Continuing on... So I see a security guard and he tells me that the garage I'm parked next to will open at 6am. I accept his suggestion in my heart and figure the following:
So as I stand there, leaning, with hands in my pockets, I fall asleep and forward onto the ground, just barely wedging my hands free to catch myself before falling on my dumb face. As I hunched doggy-style on the wet cement sidewalk of SF, I looked around to make sure nobody saw my decent. Luckily I wasn't in the Tenderloin and the streets were clean enough for me not to consider getting a tetanus shot due to my scraped hands. Upon waking form my fall, I checked my phone and saw that it was 6:08 am and I was now free to move my car into the parking garage...which I did, while still a little drunk. I just backed up a few spaces and then turned into the garage, so don't be an asshole and judge me too hard.
So I slept in my car, in the garage until about 10:30am before making my way to a local 7-11 where my intention was to buy ibuprofen and coffee. As I stood in line, waiting to be checked out, my stomach decided to become my throat. I calmly asked the gentleman behind the counter, "Say, where is your bathroom?" He replied, "We don't have a public bathroom." As my face turned whiter (which I didn't think was possible) I whined, "Whelp I'm about to puke on your floor." He then pointed the direction to the bathroom, I began to sprint in that direction as he yelled out the bathroom code. I made it. I unloaded all the Frenet in San Francisco into that bowl with one big power lunge. Luckily I was wearing a cardigan sweater and I was able to wipe all the tears and gooo from my face and chin, and continue to the line from whence I came. I later was able to get over to the Mission and grad a brand new sweater from a thrift store and be healthy and ready for Friday nights shows.
So here we are, just under a year later and on Jan 2nd I was hanging around at my home and my phone became a buzz. Seemed my twitter was zipping with hearts, so I inquired. I open the app and there was some article from the Interrobang that I had been tagged in. The article was called:
I was sure this was a mistake. I was probably just being alerted because of someone I follow was named on a list or something. Anyhow, I inquire further to see the following:
We were doing a three-night run, which started on a Thursday. Well, after the show, I had a few drinks at the Punch Line bar and was well on my to feeling dizzy for a while. Once the club bar closed down, Jon went back to his room. I was bored, so me and a few of the Punch Line staff decided to go drink more. We drank and drank and then, I drank more drank. Sucking down as many nasty shots of Fernet as I could, I soon realized that I would not be driving home (back to Sacramento) 90 minute jaunt btw. I don't know why I kept drinking Frenet, as it tastes like vase water, but I did. I was so intoxicated that I just had to trust the Uber driver would take me to where I thought my car was.
Anyhow, I get to my car and notice that it was parked in a zone that is restricted between the hours of 3am and 6am for street sweeping. San Francisco is a garbage place when it comes to parking and I wouldn't mind if it ate all the bad parts of my taint. Continuing on... So I see a security guard and he tells me that the garage I'm parked next to will open at 6am. I accept his suggestion in my heart and figure the following:
If I stand next to my car when the street sweeper comes by, they will think I'm getting into my car to leave and will not give me a ticket.So, I stand guard next to my car, with hands in my pockets, while leaning against the wall, as to not look like such a piece of shit drunk. I didn't get into my car, because I've heard you can still get a DUI even of you're not driving and I knew I'd fall asleep...and get the ticket anyway.
So as I stand there, leaning, with hands in my pockets, I fall asleep and forward onto the ground, just barely wedging my hands free to catch myself before falling on my dumb face. As I hunched doggy-style on the wet cement sidewalk of SF, I looked around to make sure nobody saw my decent. Luckily I wasn't in the Tenderloin and the streets were clean enough for me not to consider getting a tetanus shot due to my scraped hands. Upon waking form my fall, I checked my phone and saw that it was 6:08 am and I was now free to move my car into the parking garage...which I did, while still a little drunk. I just backed up a few spaces and then turned into the garage, so don't be an asshole and judge me too hard.
So I slept in my car, in the garage until about 10:30am before making my way to a local 7-11 where my intention was to buy ibuprofen and coffee. As I stood in line, waiting to be checked out, my stomach decided to become my throat. I calmly asked the gentleman behind the counter, "Say, where is your bathroom?" He replied, "We don't have a public bathroom." As my face turned whiter (which I didn't think was possible) I whined, "Whelp I'm about to puke on your floor." He then pointed the direction to the bathroom, I began to sprint in that direction as he yelled out the bathroom code. I made it. I unloaded all the Frenet in San Francisco into that bowl with one big power lunge. Luckily I was wearing a cardigan sweater and I was able to wipe all the tears and gooo from my face and chin, and continue to the line from whence I came. I later was able to get over to the Mission and grad a brand new sweater from a thrift store and be healthy and ready for Friday nights shows.
So here we are, just under a year later and on Jan 2nd I was hanging around at my home and my phone became a buzz. Seemed my twitter was zipping with hearts, so I inquired. I open the app and there was some article from the Interrobang that I had been tagged in. The article was called:
I was sure this was a mistake. I was probably just being alerted because of someone I follow was named on a list or something. Anyhow, I inquire further to see the following:
I'm not kidding when I say this, but I seriously almost started crying. To be considered by one of my favorite comics as "One of the next big things in 2019," was/is an incredible feeling. I am incredibly humbled and grateful for the mention and inspired to fulfill the potential that others see. Comedy has always been, for me, incredibly challenging and rarely reassuring. It's "dog eat dog" and rarely are you able to feel the true support or appreciation from your peers. This really is one of the greatest moments in my comedy journey thus far. It may not seem like much, but I really believe it may've solidified a belief in myself and skill set to keep it going. Anyways, I've thanks Jon for his kind words on all the platforms I could think of and look forward to actually living the dream.
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