Boob Tube Ruse

Last night, my friend David and I were going to a free filming of Comedy Central's Premium Blend with Damon Wayans courtesy of On Camera Audiences. After a quick dinner at the Film Center Cafe -- where we were waited on by the cute and amusing Barry -- we went to the theater to get in line.

An hour later, we were turned away. Had we gotten there perhaps 10-15 minutes earlier, we would have gotten in, I'm sure, and as it was, we got to add our names to a special premium invitation list for "next time." Despite all that, we still got a good dose of the funny. David and I played what he dubbed the Hacky Crappington Game, a game in which I'd offer up topics -- say, laundromats or traffic -- and he'd do a bit or a rant. I'd then cut him off with a new topic, and he had to seamlessly go into the next bit. Try it; it's fun. David also turned me onto the blog of one Laurie Kilmartin, whose writing sheds light on the life of a standup. Fun stuff. Even if we stood in line for an hour.

Last night, then, I had a dream. I dreamt that I was still in line for the show, but that, instead of getting turned away, I snuck in through the door. I made it to the entrance to the theater inside, but got startled and had to hide. So I jumped into a restroom. The restroom was equipped with a bathtub and shower, and I decided that the best way to act natural was to take a shower. No one would look twice! So into the shower I stepped. As I was finishing the shower and began to dress -- while still standing in the tub, I realized I hadn't rinsed my hair. Even though I'd put my shirt on. So I leaned forward in the tub as the water drained out to rinse my hair -- only to get my shirt soaking wet!