So I just got back from a great week at the Funnybone in Virginia Beach. I did a little shopping, a little relaxing, worked with great people in a great room, and the check cleared. You can’t ask for much more.
Also while I was down there, I re-evaluated and re-ordered the must-have characteristics I need in a potential mate.
Here’s the background: Thursday nite after the show I went back to the comics’ condo, which is a very neat, very clean garden style unit. But because it’s a garden apartment, the front door opens right to the outside. I put the key in the door and then realized that there was a huge flying/hopping ‘croach’ thingy (wasn’t sure if it was a cricket or a roach) on the door. I totally freaked because I am paralyzed by bugs. Anyone who knows me well already marvels at how I was able to live in that little basement apartment in the hood for 8 years.
Tylenol PM and Benadryl is how. You’re not worried about croaches when you see unicorns…. But I digress.
I literally was so tired and buzzed all I wanted was to crawl in the bed. But I was frozen. I called the headliner who is a friend of mine and was like, “Could you stay on the phone with me until this croach dies?” He humored me for about three minutes. We talked about how if hell was a personal hell customized for each of us what would be in each of ours… And we determined that mine would be full of croaches and other pests, octopus/pi or anything else with tentacles, that scene from the Matrix when they put that tracker thing into Neo’s belly would be playing on an eternal loop … and there would be black olives everywhere … I HATE black olives.
After he wished me well and got off the phone I still couldn’t go in. It wasn’t a matter of just opening and closing the door really quickly… because I didn’t know if it was a cricket or a roach. How fast was it? That’s need-to-know info. Because where it was positioned on the door if I opened the door it was literally going to BE inside… What to do?
So I called my buddy Dawan. He’ll humor me I thought… Plus he’s in LA so its not so late. He talked me thru it. Told me to break off a piece of the crepe myrtle outside and brush it off the door. But just as I pulled the branch, he was like, “Make sure there’s no bugs on the branch.” I threw it and screamed. I hadn’t thought of that…
Eventually he convinced me to pick up the branch and brush the croach off the door. I did it and I exhaled… but then it ran back to the door at lightning speed.
Roach for sure.
Finally after a while I was so delirious, I just held my breath and chanced it. I got in, shut the door behind me and stood still for like 10 seconds to make sure it didn’t make it in. I was safe.
It wasn’t til then that D laughed at me and said how rich we would be if I had been recording the incident. We’d be Youtube stars. He’s a good friend. The best… But it got me to thinking… ‘Croach killer’ was not on my list of must-haves in a man. Stability, trustworthiness, great sense of humor… All those things are great. But no matter how muchĂ‚Â I love you, we can’t both be standing on the sofa scared of a damn spider… I need to add it to my list and move it towards the top.
So thanks Virginia Beach for the much-needed priority shift, and the new bit ;)
