Swing. And A Miss.
That little stage back there is where every comedic legend you can think of has performed. They've all grabbed that very mic right there. And tonight, although it was just another forgetful open mic to everyone else, it was my turn. Lucky number 7.
I wish I could tell you that I felt the power of Pryor, Carlin, Seinfeld, Rock, Chappelle and Louis coming through my jokes, but I didn't. Nothing worked. I didn't even get a chuckle. I ate a big, fat turd. The kind of turd that construction workers leave in a port-a-potty at 2 in the afternoon on a hot summer day. I just gobbled it all up and licked my fingers when I was done.
But the problem with being a dumb comic is, I loved every minute (3, to be exact) of it. I was a little leaguer getting to strike out at Yankee Stadium. And goddammit, I can't wait to bat again.