This week I polled My Sweet Facebook Page on what they would rather read—a Road Story or a Family Story. By a whopping 70%-30%: Road Story wins!
(I guess no one cares about my family)
To thank you for the overwhelming response I am giving you not one but two road stories today. I’m still a newbie when it comes to road work. In the first five years of my quest for comedy you could catch me almost everywhere within a two hour circumference of Hamilton, Ontario. I would come back to the Hamilton mics like some big wig, “Just killed it in Beamsville”—acting all cool. It wasn’t until about three years ago that I was invited to Antigonish, Nova Scotia to perform in a yurt on Day 3 of Evolve Festival.
The best way to describe Evolve is a pure love fest.
I lived a lot of life in those three days and by Day 3—I was just as zonked as the hippies sitting cross-legged before me. Live-painter Sharon Epic was sharing the stage with me as I slung jokes wearing an audience member’s tank top. And spoiler alert, it was way too small.
Here’s a picture of Sharon painting a heart around my right nipple
Aww memories. I performed for a total of thirty minutes weaving in and out of crowd work and material, trying to make sense of where I was and what I was doing. My wife Lindsay was in the audience. Tired from long nights and hot days. She sat with her back against the yurt, waiting to hit the road. Sitting in front of her was a woman with a majestic mane of dreadlocks. Hippie Medusa in all her Mufasa glory.
I didn’t see this happen from stage but from my peripheral, I knew something was up.
The following is a secondhand account of the story as told to me from my darling wife, Lindsay. She has no reason to lie or make this up. Unless she knew three years later I would be blogging about this and was so fame-hungry she couldn’t help luring me into this God-forbidden trap.
Here’s what happened.
Hippie Medusa was watching my stand-up. Enjoying herself immensely. Probably thinking about how I’m the next George Carlin. And she peed. Yeah, that’s right. Peed. Right where she was sitting. The pee puddle pooled out around her like Saturn’s rings. (Pee Puddle Pooled… say that three times fast! Actually, that whole sentence was a mess.)
Hippie Medusa looked left. Looked right. Stood up with pee dripping like kisses from the sun. Moved over a single slide to the left (three claps this time!) and SAT BACK DOWN!!!
WHOS IS THIS GODDESS???!?!?!!
Was this the best day of my life?
I had finally reached the next echelon in my journey towards comedy greatness. I made a girl pee her pants because I’m that unstoppably funny.
It’s not like she turned to the fellow patrons and said, “Oh my, it seems I’ve had quite the accident! Pardon my exit.” She thought to herself, “This guy is the real deal. I can’t miss this. Clifford “So Fucking Awesome” Myers is on a whole other level!” And sat back down!
This was the kind of moment I only ever dreamed of in one of my many flex-sessions in front of my “Future Glory” mirror. Every comedians secretly wishes to be so funny that someone dies from laughter. I know that’s horrible but there’s a sadistic side to stand-up comedians that I don’t truly know how to explain right now. But if you can’t kill them with laughter then the next best thing is to make them pee.
Bonus points if they just absolutely shit their pants.
The second story I was a first-hand witness to. “Yeah Cliff! What’s the point of road stories if you didn’t even see it happen?” Well, in this next tale, I saw what happened.
I was sharing the comedy condo with a headlining comedian who was quite the charmer. A friend of mine came to visit. He was a local pastor. We went to school with each other back in the day. We walked up and down empty streets, catching up, talking philosophy, sharing our different perspectives and genuinely enjoying one another’s company. We went upstairs to the condo, poured a couple glasses of tap water and talked for another three hours. Everything from church life to comedy life, tragedy, society, God and healing.
It had to be around three in the morning. The headliner stumbled in with a lady friend. They said some hellos and went straight to the bedroom. We continued talking. Somewhat disregarding the interaction. A few minutes later we started hearing some, ahem, noise coming from the other side of the wall and an audible, “Oh God!”
Now, to think about it, I’m not that sure she was breaking into spontaneous prayer.
Me and my Super Cool Pastor Friend exchanged a look that was like, “Uh, let’s call it a night.” And said our goodbyes. A few days later we met for coffee and laughed about the whole ordeal. Just the pure awkwardness alone. He’s such an awesome guy. I won’t be surprised if he talks about it in a sermon one day!
You never know what you’re going to experience on the road or who you’re going to experience it with. But embrace it. Embrace the weirdness, the Strange and the Awkward. At least you’re experiencing something real.
Something that’s yours.
But not yours to keep.
Thanks for reading today’s post! I don’t know what got into me! I just kind of had fun trying to write a little different and share some stories that just WREAKED of weirdness!!! What are some WTF situations you’ve found yourself in? There’s no way I’m alone in this. I’ll be putting up another poll for next Thursday’s blog! Head over to my Facebook Page and give it a Like. Join the conversations and have a say in what I write. You never know. Maybe eventually I’ll start letting my readers dictate my act! (Me give up control? Yeah right!) Please share today’s post if you loved reading it as much as I loved writing (and living) it!