Sometime in the absolutely drunken haze of Saturday, I agreed to something completely stupid. Surprising, right? Four of my friends were sitting on the edge of a planter in the backyard of Pete's Candy Store in Williamsburg, and I was standing in front of them and made the comment that I felt like a (bad) stand-up comedian. So, I start telling the four jokes I know - all of which I didn't write - but have been in my rotation since fourth grade.
Well, the details are fuzzy (again: surprising, right?), but within minutes a friend had his fancy phone out looking for open mic nights in the area in the next two weeks. I agreed to do stand-up because "it has to be SO easy." Crap.
So, instead of having a relaxing few weeks left in New York, I have to write a stand-up routine because a promise is a promise. There will be NO VIDEO of this, but I'm imagining it will go something like this: