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July 5, 2005- "Summer of Paul Part III: Paul sits at home for a few days. Happy Holidays
everybody! I was on the road for the first half of the month and was worn out
more than I realized. The first week of work started on Tuesday at The Improv
in Washington, D.C. It's probably my favorite club to work and while the crowds
were a little lighter than usual, I still had a great time.
Finally, I had this picture
laying around from my trip to Paris last year. It’s an ad I saw when I
was in the subway there. It’s a real McDonald’s ad that shows two
dogs humping. If someone can tell me what this has to do with a cheeseburger
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The
club puts me up in a great hotel that is connected to three Irish Bar’s,
although one is run by Mexicans and another by Moroccans. At the hotel, they
bake fresh cookies every night and put them in the lobby. What more could you
ask for? My room had a kitchen which excites me but I’m not sure why because
I never cook anything. Just the idea that I could heat something up makes me
feel powerful. I wonder if anyone else dries their socks in the microwave? The
only thing that is a little shady about the room is that the windows only open
about an inch and they aren’t made out of real glass, instead it’s
some sort of plexi-glass which is scratched to a smoky white color in some places.
In other places there are these circular dark, dirty patterns, like someone
tried to clean the window with a melted Hershey bar.
In
fact, it turned out that there was a Convention for Deaf people, and apparently
they all decided to go to this bar. We were, in fact, the only people not talking
in sign language. You would think that would make me a little less reserved
since no one could hear what I was saying, but I started thinking about lip-reading,
and that everyone in the bar would know everything that I said simply by glancing
across the bar at me. I was going to kind of cover my lips but then I thought
that might agitate people more. They might think that I was talking about them.
I was just trying to avoid trouble. Who knew if these were violent, deaf ,drunk
people or kind, deaf, drunk people.
Next
up was my flight back to L.A for a grand total of 26 hours. I would be home
for one day before heading to The Comic Strip in El Paso, TX. My flight from
DC stopped in Houston which is where the trouble began. Long story short, I
spent 9 hours waiting for my plane to leave for L.A. What made the experience
slightly less frustrating was that Harry Anderson was on my flight. You might
remember Harry as the Judge on the 80’s Sit-com "Night Court."
I passed him on my way to the restroom in the terminal, I told him I was a comic
and introduced myself. He was very nice and we talked a lot about standup, where
I worked and who I knew. Harry explained that he was opening a new Comedy/Magic
club in New Orleans in the next year. He told me to contact him when it gets
up and running so hopefully something good came out of sitting in an airport
for 9 hours. 
El
Paso was nice but I got kind of bored because I didn’t have a car. I spent
most of my time eating at restaurants within walking distance, like the blue-hair
infested Cracker Barrel. I mean, I was eating there because it was the only
place to go. I can't imagine eating there on purpose and no, Cracker Barrel
did not pay me to say that. The view from my hotel looked like the scene out
of an old western movie. The crowds were huge the whole week and I had a great
time at the shows.