Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Prone Comedy, Part 1: The Salon

During a giggle session a friend suggested I do Stand-Up Comedy. I remind her that I can't stand up 'cause of my medical issues. I have Orthostatic Intolerance. It sounds terrible – and it is. Orthostatic Intolerance – it's kind of like being a racist, except you hate: Standing people . People laying down – no problem. But when people stand up, all kinds of things go wrong. I told her would have to do Laying Down Comedy instead. "Well, yeah, you can sit down. You don't have to stand up. Some people sit." I had gone to see her at work at the Ice House once, and on that night both a cerebral palsy and a deaf comedian performed. They were both really funny. And it's true, the palsy guy was sitting in his chair and being funny. At the same time. Hmm. So I wrote a comedy routine about the things we joked about and the conversations we had re: service dogs and autoimmune problems. Not sure when I'll get to perform this, so here is Part I of Prone Comedy

I have a lot of trouble doing two things at once, or even one thing at once, when I'm standing. For example, if I'm walking and having a conversation, I have to keep stopping. "Why do you keep stopping?" It just feels right. I can't walk and chew gum at the same time. I think I was a cow in another life. Big hairy animals: My friend told me she wanted to adopt a hairless dog. A naked dog. You have to adopt them. You can't buy them. They're too much like people. I asked her why she didn't just get her dog waxed – the one she already has. She said she tried, but the salon wanted to charge her, like, $300 for the job. That's what they charge Persian men! So unfair.

I had a Persian boyfriend once. He waxed his chest and back regularly – on waiter's wages! He didn't have a car, or his own place. He slept in a closet. But he had a really smooth skin. At least until the regrow appeared. Then it was like spooning with sandpaper. Industrial grade sandpaper. The kind made out of crushed Garnet mineral. Ouch. There were red shards everywhere afterwards – allover the shoes, the crumpled clothes. But I think it was unfair for the salon to charge him. After all, they get a rug out of the deal! They keep it, too. If a group of them comes in, they get wall-to-wall carpeting. Sticks forever. Anyway, I suggested to my friend that she disguise her dog as a cat. They can't charge that much just to wax your pussy, can they? Just make sure you order from the fixed price menu. "I'd like the Naked Beaver please – performed on this dog."

One time I went to the salon and asked to get my eyebrow waxed. I hadn't groomed in awhile. So I just had a single brow when I walked in, a uni-brow. She tried to charge me for both. I said No, there's just one. Just do the undersides. I'll split it in two later. When I got home, I downloaded and 3D printed a plastic invisibility cloak for the center section. I figured it would fix the hair problem, and at the same time, explain my cognitive deficit. "Of course she can't think – she has a big hole right in the center of her head! Look! I can see the wall right behind her." It's really hard to explain to people that you have an invisible disability. They think that means you keep disappearing – which is kind of what happens . . . Part 2 to follow

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