Sigh. My weekend was uneventful, yet not horrible. Ok wait, so one interesting thing happened, which I’m about to get to. In the meantime, I think I’ve reached an all new level of lazy. I went from working full time (like, actually having things to do at work) plus doing at least three freelance projects a week, writing a book…to…nothing. I have no deadlines at work, so yesterday I sat at my desk and read a book. I finished all of my freelance work for the month, and yeah, I finished writing my first book.
I guess I’ve earned my right to be lazy…but damn, now I’m just bored! Anyway, I’ll quit complaining and just be lazy while I can.
So this weekend, my friend Anne told me she won an eff-load of free tickets to a comedy club Saturday night and asked if I wanted to go. For once in my life, I didn’t really feel like going out, but I hadn’t seen her in awhile and I always love a good laugh. So I buckled up my boots and met her out.
The comedy club near my apartment is inside an actual bar/club. And of course, it’s one of the TRASHIEST in town. I’d never been inside before, but it’s in the loop with all the finest strip clubs, so I figured as much. We got to the club an hour before the show started and I ordered a drink.
Single Stoli and soda with one lime. $9.
Nine fucking dollars??!?! I mean Stoli is one of my favorite vodkas, but seriously?? It’s not fucking Chopin, and it isn’t worth $9 plus tip. God I am so cheap.
During the hour to kill, Anne and I snagged a table near the dance floor, along with a few of her girlfriends, whom I didn’t know. They were laughing at all the cougars trying to dance. Then, out of nowhere, this chick comes up to our table and starts begging us to dance.
“Plleeaaasee!!! Come ooonn! Dance with us!!!!”
Heh. Heh. NO.
I love to dance just as much as anybody, but seriously? There was no one on the dance floor, I don’t know you, and I’m not a lezzie, K?
We leave our table to get in line. Then, the same girl comes up to us again:
“UGH. THANKS FOR DITCHING ME ON MY BIRTHDAY!”
“Hey we weren’t invited to your fucking party,” I said.
“I was just JOKE-ING.”
Then she rattles on about how the show we are in line to see is just sOoOoOoOoO funny. She walks off and I’m all, “What in the fucking fuck fuck was that?”
We grab a table inside the comedy area, I manage to get a double-well-vodka for $6. That’s more like it. And the show starts.
Did I mention we were there to see a sexual hypnotist?
Uhmmm yeah. So this guy, we’ll call him Hypno, tells us all what is about to happen—that 10 or so people will volunteer to be hypnotized, they will have a great time because they will feel so relaxed and we will have a great time laughing at them. Since the show is X-rated, we had to turn off all our cameras and cell phones. He gets the volunteers on stage and they sit in a row of chairs. He tells us he needs 10 minutes of silence to get the volunteers completely hypnotized, and that even some people in the audience will probably fall too, so we should beware of anyone who starts reacting to what he is saying. He says to just let them be and not react to anything they do so they won’t wake up.
So he starts in on the schpeal, music, he tells them about a staircase, they are stepping down, 10, 9, 8, 7, etc. As he is counting down, I start to see their heads drop one by one. And it was freaking me out.
He told them when they heard applause they would fall deeper into the state of hypnosis. And they did. I’ve never seen anything like it. Then he snapped his fingers and they woke up, but were still under the spell, ready to follow his instructions.
He started by telling them it was a Friday night and they just got home from work, ready to smoke a huge bong. “I’ve got the best shit ever, it’s going to fuck you up and give you an orgasm. Now who wants it?”
All of the little spellions raised their hands and reached for him as he handed them an imaginary pinch of his shit. They proceeded to light up and take giant hits from FAKE BONGS. “Isn’t that some good shit??? It feels so good, right? Go ahead and touch yourself!” And that’s when half of the spellions straight up masturbated on stage. I am scarred for life. He then told them to turn on their imaginary tvs to watch a porn. More masturbating. He continued with his instructions.
And his instructions were sick:
1. When you hear any song by Shania Twain, you are a stripper. Dance for it.
2. When you hear a phone ring, you must answer your phone, which is your own shoe.
3. You hate Christmas, and you have to scream and shout it to everyone.
4. When you see the audience holding up cocktail napkins, those are $100 bills, strip to earn a living.
5. When you hear me say the word “DVD” you will have the most intense orgasm of your life.
6. I am the most attractive person you’ve ever seen in your life, show me the things you want to do to me.
7. Use your chair to show me your favorite sexual position.
He also passed out cucumbers to all of the girls and bagels to all of the guys and told everyone to perform their favorite oral act on them. Talk about weird.
The “DVD” thing also freaked me out, the girls on stage were practically naked, screaming on stage.
I met Hypno after the show and told him he was a sick fuck.
“I KNOW!” he said. I was afraid to look into his eyes—he told me when he got home from tour he puts his wife under a spell, fucks her, and then avoids household chores.
Anyway, I saw one of the spellions in the bathroom afterward, her hair was looking like shit and she was trying to make the most of it in the mirror. She looked at me and says, “DAMN. I didn’t look like this when I got here.”
Umm yeah, and you also have no idea that I’ve seen you jack yourself off and suck a cucumber. Hard.