Last night I didn't have the set I wanted to. It was an open-mic. For those non-comics out there open-mic is an opportunity to try out new material, work out a premise on stage, test out new tags to older material to try to expand on bits, etc. Of course, some people beat the same five minutes to death for years but, moving on. I didn't have the set I wanted. I didn't care necessarily that I didn't do well, but I was bummed that some of the newer material that I've been trying to work out and gravitate towards isn't quite clicking.
Rest of the night went on, quick question: Does a public domain(read: internet) joke about sleeping with your cousins in (insert city of ridicule) deserve an applause break? Should it even be uttered on stage? I didn't think so either.
Anyway, after all was over the great Tim Warner and I went for a beer down the street. This place is a biker-esque bar but it's just a stone's throw away from the apartment so we went. The bartender was playing this horrible pop-punk "emo" music, dribble I used to think was cool when I was 16 or so but then saw through once I realized high school didn't matter. Anyway Tim and I were talking shop, I was blowing off steam to a slight degree, and just then the most terrible cover of "Just Like Heaven" by the Cure came on. I mean TERRIBLE. It was absolutely nauseating. There were only like, 5 people in the bar, none of whom looked like they would be into this music with exception to the hipster skinny-jean clad bartender. For some reason, that did me in, I was fed up with it all, fed up with work, fed up with all of it.
So I looked up and said for all to hear, "This is the worst cover I ever heard, this is atrocious, whoever recorded this deserves to be shot in the skull."
It really was that bad. The song continued. "Dreamed of all the different ways I had to make her glow..." I looked down at the table, there was some cash sitting there which of course was my intended tip. I reached down and took a dollar and put it back in my pocket.
I know, I know, kind of harsh, but I was ticked. And honestly, if you're going to push your horrible taste down peoples' throats you should realize that you may catch one of them on the wrong day and they'll take it out of your tip. I'm a Cure fan, that was some bad old timing. I'm not sure if the bartender noticed or not but Tim was cracking up so I imagine he noticed.
Now it's time for some irony: I got home and pulled up my laptop, my girlfriend had put a drawing of Robert Smith up as my background. At that point I couldn't help laughing about the whole thing. Next time I'm in there I'll tip the bartender a little extra to make up for it, maybe he'll use the money to buy some better music and we both win.