I’m not exactly what kind of cloud I was sitting under when I was struck with the ludicrous idea to get up super-duper early, drop the dog off at a boarding facility, hop onto the train and wait in the cold for 7 1/2 (seven and a half) hours to go in and try to get onto a television show . . . but I wish that I did know – so that I could – at all costs – avoid sitting under that cloud the next time that it bothered to blow into my air space.

What am I talking about? Well – friends – a couple of weeks ago I heard about auditions to get onto “Last Comic Standing” – that show where people go and tell jokes about things – and are all about making the funny happen like little rainbows in the sky after a brisk morning shower. It has taken me this long to gather my bearings to write about it. It wasn’t the best experience in the world.

I will reserve saying anything bad about all but one person – mostly because they all stood outside with me for such an interminable amount of time – and got the same short shrift that I was served with – on a cold (cold) plate. I really shied away from talking to people as much as I could – but was inevitably drawn into conversations as the hours went by. There was one guy who was there because his “kids wanted (me) to do it,” another who literally didn’t stop talking the entire time and who directed most of his talking at any woman that walked within earshot (the rest of his talking involved telling – the same – jokes over and over throughout the day for anyone who would listen), there was a guy who had been on the same train that I had taken in (he wanted to bond over it – and I was just too cold and tired to bond), a guy who had driven all the way from Boston (He was my favorite – he was low key – I tapped him on the shoulder as an act of solidarity when I left), a girl wearing a shirt that said “I’m something special!” or something like that – maybe it was “I’m a big thing!” or something else – she was 22 (twenty-two) and talked a bunch about her regular gigs and sets around the city (I was probably jealous – as I have no regular gigs) and 350 (three hundred and fifty) other people who were there to get their 2 (two) minutes to be as funny as they could be.

The prospect was ugly.

(Part 2 comes tomorrow – I just didn’t quite finish it yet . . . hold them horses)