Last Friday Mike and Weston went to the Kentucky Derby for their friend's bachelor party. This left Libbie and I to our own vices, so we headed out for a night on the town...to a comedy club.
I hadn't ever been to a comedy club before so I could only judge them by what I see on TV and in movies (which is the only way I see fit to judge things.) I had some fears: sitting in the front row, being called out, the comedian not being funny. Lucky for me, they all came true.
We grabbed a drink at the bar when we walked in and some girl told Libbie her outfit was cute. Libbie mentioned to me how genuine the girl seemed and how she thought someone made fun of her outfit earlier in the day, so it was nice to get a compliment on it.
We were seated directly next to the stage and when we asked if we could move we were informed we would need to get back in line to be re-seated. Needless to say we didn't move. The opening act came on and we soon realized it was the girl at the bar who had just commented on Libbie's outfit. We spent the rest of her act trying to decide if the compliment was genuine. The final verdict was no.
The main act came on next. Apparently he had a Showtime special and has been on Letterman, but oh boy--was he ever terrible. He was a small white guy who tried to rap, and then danced for most of the set. I couldn't even fake a smile or laugh. He called everyone out that was sitting in the front row, but not for like a few minutes of the act. It was his ENTIRE act. Every once in a while he would look in our direction but I think the permanent scowl on our faces discouraged him from picking on us. We paid our tab as quickly as possible and ducked out during the second encore of him singing "Let's Get It On." Sounds hilarious, right?
Upsides to the night: An evening with Libbie. The tickets were free. And these fries --
That is ketchup AND nacho cheese sauce, people. Good fries can turn any bad night around.