At times I have a weird eating schedule. Sometimes I won't be hungry in the afternoon, go out and do comedy, then be starving by the time I get home. I've decided that from now on whenever I have a terrible set I won't eat when I get home...because I ate already, I dined on a shit-sandwich. It only seems fair.
Tonight was definitely one of those nights where I wouldn't be eating, but I decided to let it slide because I was starving and knew I wouldn't sleep well if I didn't eat something. I'm already slacking off.
I did canvassing for a bit, not just because I needed some quick cash but because I thought a job like that would help with stand-up, if I can convince a stranger to give me their credit card information on the street I can convince them a joke's funny. It was tough. The toughest job I've ever had. And it's brutal. I felt like shit everyday, mentally and physically. My day would start at around 7:30am, and it would end around midnight. I wouldn't have time to go home after the shift because I'd go straight to stand-up somewhere. I got sick nearly immediately. I lasted three days. With everything else I had going on, it just wasn't going to work at the moment. Still, I enjoyed seeing that side of humanity, in terms of human interaction you're just a pan-handler that makes an hourly wage. Within my three days somebody told me to fuck off once, a woman propositioned me for sex and three people signed up with me. I would see tourists finding their way through downtown, looking for the library, Pike's Place, Pioneer Square, the Space Needle at times, though I was never really near the Center.
According to my supervisor one of my flaws was my low energy and the fact that I didn't approach a ton of people. We found that it was because I pre-judged them. "Why?" He asked me. "Because I've lived, I've seen shit, I know we're supposed to be optimistic about human compassion but I'm not sold." "Everyone that comes through our doors have seen shit, you've got to give people a little bit of credit." He was right about the first part, and he had a point, most of the people there were well-traveled, eclectic, cultured, but we all see different things. With the path I've chosen over the past several years I feel that I give my fellow man enough credit. We're flawed, we're animals, the best may be behind us, but we can learn and we can love. Some would call it misanthropy, others cynicism, I call it a healthy dose of realism.
By the way, here's what our health-care bill should say:
"Non-Profit Single Payer. There. Any room for misinterpretations or bogus death panel claims? No, I didn't think so. All of you insurance industry moguls can get new jobs selling used American cars. As for the rest of you, you're welcome."