Day 2 (oops, Day 3)

I have so many ideas, thoughts, stories, memories, anecdotes and body parts swirling around in my head and scribbled on scraps of paper that litter my mid-century John Stuart desktop or typed on electronic Stickies that litter my iMac's desktop...

OK, can I start over, please?  There was too much brand-name-dropping in that first sentence and we want this to be a commercial-free venture.  Anyway, my point is that I have a lot to say and there won't be much of an order to it so let's just get started.  The Ape is also blogging as I write this and my competitive nature wants to finish before he does.

So (oh, btw, I hate sentences that start with "So," so please stop me if I ever do that again), we slept all day yesterday and got up around 8pm.  The wake-up time seems to get pushed later and later each day; maybe soon we'll be waking up the following morning, in which case...will we finally be on a normal human schedule?  We had just enough time to feed our Facebook addictions (and our stomachs), shower, dress, and hop in a cab to go see our friend Susannah's show on Bleecker St. at 10:30pm.  We got there just in time to find out that the show had actually started at 8 and had already ended.  I swear the website said 10:30!  (Oops, there's that dreaded exclamation point.)  We were disappointed -- but not surprised -- because we have a history of this happening to us.  We have Bad Clock Karma, as our SoCal friends would say.

In October, we were featured guests at the Bruised Fruits Halloween show at the Broadway Comedy Club.  One of the improv troupe's members, the cute/funny David Hodorowski, had been a guest at our "comeback show" in August (more on how we came to stop and then start performing again in a future blog post...it's on one of my scads of Stickies, I promise).  I had checked the Facebook event they'd created, which said the show started at 8:30am (I assumed the "AM" was a typo).  We arrived at 8:15pm to find out the show had actually begun at 8pm and they'd been wondering where the hell we were (well, nobody said "hell" but I thought the story would have more punch if I made them seem pissed off).

A few years ago, a friend gave us tickets (great 5th row orchestra seats) to Jersey Boys on Broadway.  He said he would leave the tickets at the box office window, and we arrived nice and early (7:30pm) but there were no tickets for us.  As the Ape eloquently put it at the time, "WTF, man?"  We waited around as the crowd filed in, calling Ticket Friend (and getting his voicemail) as the ticket-takers kept telling us how sorry they felt for us poor, pathetic ticketless tramps. We finally gave up as the curtain went up, and went to the gym instead to work out our frustration. Ticket Friend called the next day and wanted to know why we were at the theater at 7:30 when the show had been at 3.  3??!!  We had totally forgotten about matinées.  Who goes to matinées?  He never said it was the matinée.  As the Ape eloquently put it at the time, "Fuckin' 3 o'clock??"  But even though we missed the show, we actually loved the fact that this happened to us, because we kind of got to live one of our favorite "I Love Lucy" episodes, where Lucy buys tickets to the big smash Most Happy Fella but doesn't realize until it's too late that her tickets were for the matinée.  Here it is, in its digitally remastered entirety:









I think the Ape is nearing the end of his post so I'm going to publish mine.  I win!!!