Friday, January 4, 2013

Just another night with Valerie.



So Valerie came and spent last weekend with me and usually when Valerie comes, we have a very activity-filled and eventful weekend. So upon her arrival on Friday night, we went to an improv comedy show. I’m going to take a side bar to just note my thoughts about improv; I’ve been to two improv shows in the past month and I’m not really sure how I feel about them.  I did think ‘Whose Line Is It Anyway’ was funny, but again, their performances on the show had to be pretty amazing to make it on a television series in the first place.  Actual live improv shows are sometimes okay, and I do crack a smile often, but I never really laugh out loud like I do during stand-up.  And I understand it’s a lot harder to be funny when you are put on the spot than when you can practice jokes, a routine and the delivery. Overall, I guess I’m just not that impressed yet with improv.

Anyway, back to the night: after the show, we went to Walnut Room with Alisa and her boyfriend. So we have a few drinks and all is well on the dance floor until all of a sudden, a sneaker comes flying through the air and hits Valerie in the head, and less than a millisecond later, the other sneaker hits Alisa’s shoulder. So if you know Valerie, you know that when something like that happens, it’s like the world becomes silent just waiting for her reaction.  And this is why…

The first time I ‘experienced’ Valerie in this type of situation was at a frat party in Cornell circa 2003.  So as you know, it was the early 2000s and a frat party, so I was probably grinding up on some guy [of a certain ethnicity] in a bubble jacket with fur on the hood to ‘err’body in the club getting tipsy…’ after having one too many Milwaukee’s Best or Keystone Lights.  And at this point, I'm too into myself and singing along to the song that I don't notice where Valerie is or who she is with. Until suddenly, a crowd rushes towards the dance floor to watch something going on [most likely a fight] and I look up, only to see Valerie walking out of the crowd in the opposite direction a little too calm and collected for my liking.  So I asked her what had just happened and she said “Oh some drunk girl was dancing and spilling her beer all over my hair, so I didn’t say anything the first time it happened. But the second time, I turned around, and grabbed her hand with the beer can and crushed the can using her hand and threw it on the floor. I didn’t say anything though. She just started crying or something. Whatever.”  

So needless to say, a year or so later, we were all eating brunch one morning in New York City when a waitress tripped and spilled strawberry jam all over Valerie. Our entire table gasped and started saying a silent prayer for the waitress for her bad luck that of all of the six people at our table that she could have spilled something on, she had to spill it on Valerie.  Luckily, Valerie was in an exceptionally good mood and did not say anything to make the waitress wish she hadn’t been at work that day.  But needless to say, you can see why we were worried.  So, back to this sneaker incident…

The sneaker hits Valerie, the world goes silent. And everyone on the dance floor stops and turns around to see Valerie’s reaction. She grabs the sneaker from the floor and the other one from Alisa and is looking around to who she should throw these back at. Until some guy comes rushing up to Valerie apologizing profusely, while claiming that his friend was really drunk and just took his sneakers off and threw them into the dance floor without thinking.  [I think I’m getting a little too old for this type of situation to be commonplace at a bar.]  He asks for the sneakers back, but Valerie tells him “No, your friend can walk barefoot home.”  The guy begs her that it’s winter and really cold outside and to please give back the sneakers. To which Valerie shows little to no sympathy.  “Well, he shouldn’t have thrown them in the first place.”

And so, the night proceeds as if nothing happened with Valerie telling guys she can’t give them her phone number because she lives in Zimbabwe. 

We managed to thankfully, avoid public view for the rest of the weekend to prevent more incidents like this from occurring.  Although sometimes I miss the drama that Valerie brings with her to Philly every few months because it adds some flavor to the mundane nature of my normal life.

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