Sunday, September 30, 2012

Free Ride

Yesterday I wasn't feeling so hot. I met the girls for lunch early that morning with a du-rag on my head looking like Mr. Jinga Janga. I had curlers. I was to be MM strip to a bikini,okay Marilyn Monroe. There had been some drama with my book. Amazon was out of stock.People want to order but are scared. Got my first royalty statement but they didn't include the books sold out on Amazon so we will be chatting Monday which is cool cause I like my publisher. My ebook is behind schedule. Then there is other press related drama I will not even get into.

I got to Penn to jump on the LIRR and began to have a meltdown in the station. I am twenty eight fucking years old. Why am I not farther along in my career? Why am I not farther along in my life? Maybe I watched too many movies where it came easier for the protagonist. In the end she gets the man. Nevermind she looks like a stripper, she gets the castle. Did I mention I always secretly prayed Julia Roberts got creamed by a mac track as I got older? She made being a hooker look so glamorous and easy.

I went to try to pitch my book to a store in my spare time. The apathetic clerk who looked pissed he was probably using his Skidmore degree to ring up books said, "You have to go through a distributor." No shit Sherlock. Like I don't know that. I am an indie book. Clearly you don't own a television or computer. Otherwise you would have seen I was on Britney Spears's website, bitch! Then his partner,who probably had more of a love for the written word than pure disdain for those purchasing said, "The manger is here everyday from 9-5. They do occasionally sell indie books." He smiled at me and gave me a sticker.No matter what happens, when I am uber successful, I will remember that man.

I sometimes think I get doors slammed in my face because I am not only the only one like myself, but I am a woman. If I were a man who took the swing I did on Rachael Ray, I would be a legend. If I were a man with puppets on TLC, I would be a legend. Oh and if I were a man who wrote a book that was about to be published I would be in stores.Of course there are the whiny women's comedy collectives who moan about how comedy is a man's world. They are cliquish, obnoxious, and frankly don't even know what discrimination is first hand.

I have been bumped by lesser deserving male comedians because they had a TV credit in 2006 and it is now 2012, but apparently there hasbeen plaque has more cache because of their gender. It had nothing to do with ability or talent. Then after they have the nerve to view me as a sex object they tell me when I don't have the info on crowd work because God forbid I came from another spot they say, "Perhaps this isn't for you." I just want to say, oh really, this hasn't been for you since Last Comic Standing 4 in 2006 or something, hence last because it was the last big thing you did you washed up piece of shit. How's the day job? How's the stupid radio program you do for free?

Of course I could go on all day about the chip I have on my shoulder. On the other hand,my revenge on these simple SOBs is to have the better career. I have my list of names. When the time comes they are F-U-C-K-E-D. Same with the stupid bitches who whine about sexism and men oppressing them when they are too ugly to be discriminated against. Hey, they talk shit on Brit Brit because they could never have her career.

Then I remembered delivering a singing telegram from Blake Mallen two weeks ago. Blake is the CEO of ViSalus. To make a long story short, the order almost sent me to an early grave. They needed Scotch,then they wanted me in CT, then the guy was in NYC!!!! AHHHHH!!!!!!!!!! But in the end it turned out to be one of my best deliveries ever. I got to like the mystery man I never met who lives in LA. His assistants were very nice. He thought out of the box. And on his blogs he is super motivating. I pictured Blake giving me some pump me up speech not to give up.

Suddenly I wanted Blake to pull up in his limo and take me to his private island. Screw work, screw my book, screw the world. But Blake would inform me that I had a terrible attitude. He would tell me to go for it.

Then I remembered Blake and I never met.

My train came and I got to the station early. If anyone asked my name I would tell them No One. I didn't want to engage. I felt like crying in a corner. This whole damn book thing is too much. I wondered why I couldn't be fat and whiny like the women comedians who whine about male comedians and their sexism when not even Stevie Wonder would take a stab at that thing? I wondered why I couldn't have impressive boobs and be stupid as hell and just get walk on roles like all those girls who blew their way to the top? I wondered why I couldn't be a man?

Just then a Jamaican dude asked if I needed a ride. He operated a gypsy cab. I got in and told him where to go.He informed me that the ride would be free because he was going that way anyway. For the first time in my flurry I calmed down. I had just gotten a free ride!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I told him I would be willing to give him some dough. He laughed and told me it was alright. He was headed to the airport where the real money was,and that I was to have a good night.

Maybe I have issues with my book, but my issues are exciting. Maybe I have problems, but my problems are a luxury.

The gig went swimmingly and on the way back I was recognized by a fan.


Love April

I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Person


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