after spending a lot of today wrestling with my inadequacies as an emotional support system and general inability to "be there" when needed because somehow my crises always concur with those i am trying to avoid on the part of others about whom i care a great deal, i needed a bit of a break. so, knowing that i had planned to go to an "uproariously funny" comedy show made me feel better... at least until i got there.
i picked up my ticket and headed downstairs to the "auditorium," only to find that the show had already started. but wait - isn't it supposed to start at 7:30 and it's only 7:16? but hey - in i go, past a darkened curtain, to find a one-woman show in progress... i didn't really think that anything weird was going on until the one-woman started to cry. and we're not talking hysterical "actress tears" here either - we're talking genuine, heart-wrenching, sobs. and even then... i kept thinking to myself... "maybe all this going on and on about yelling & so on is a build-up for the second half of the show, when we hear about how she found empowerment through lesbianism or something and became a "better person" so that now she can talk about this onstage. but no. it kept going. and getting worse - the description of this relationship with an abusive man, who somehow as a law student and later as a lawyer was just plain icky… until about 1 hour in…when i swear i was just sitting there waiting for it to end so i could ask my friend “what the fuck did you invite me to, and good thing none of my friends who i invited to a fucking comedy show came,” the lady gets to the part about how the “last straw” happens and she tries to kill herself. and of course this is accompanied by the rolling up of the long-sleeved shirt so we can all see the bandages around her wrists. at which point i get up and walk out of the fucking theater. because well…
when you’ve spent as much time as i have around fucked up and ill people, you don’t just go watching theater about abusive relationships and self-mutilation, unless of course its “Secretary” in which case it’s so damn good and it’s on a fucking screen, so you can’t literally see the woman wiping the tears off her face and turning around to collect herself and obviously doing some sort of cathartic “if i can talk about this in front of an audience perhaps i am finally coming to terms with the horrendous experience i just survived” kind of thing, it really is alright.
so i walked out of the theatre and up these stairs into the entrance of the gallery-cum-performance space [which had neat ambiance and an assortment of techno-art-shit that was actually kinda fun], and asked the man behind the counter what exactly was going on.
he proceeded to tell me that i was in the wrong theater, that the “comedy” was actually in another room, and “oh my god i can’t believe no one told you or noticed the ticket times were different” as well as my personal favorite “so wait you didn’t pay for that?” [are you fucking kidding me?!! comedy is free but that emotional horror costs you MONEY?!!!!! what do people think is fucking “art” these days anyway?!]
so he showed me where the “comedy” was and i saw the last few minutes, which made me chuckle but feel awfully weird – because when it comes down to it, if something or someone is really good at what they do, they take you with them on their emotional journey – whether or not it’s pleasant. and this woman was fucking amazing. even if it wasn’t the comedy i was expecting… which made it all the more disturbing that i was sitting there watching it feeling uncomfortable. and yes i could empathize, and “feel for her,” and deeply know what she was talking about, so that made me uncomfortable, instead of feeling empathetic or desireous of a happy ending or any of those things…
because all i really wanted, and needed, tonight, was a comedy show. and instead… i went down, out, around, laughed a little, and feel at this point that my concerns are so fucking inane if and only if because i was confronted with genuine tears, genuine laughter, and genuine confusion all within an hour tonight. and now all i want is a stiff drink and sleep, neither of which are in my near future…