Kinda Sorta Famous

in pursuit of life, love, and the opportunity to be…

bittersweet poetry

Okay, so as most of you know, I’ve relocated to Las Vegas and it’s been almost 3 months now.

And I must say, it’s cool here, so far. I mean I like the sunny weather and there is alot to do. I guess the problem is finding people to do it with. I’ve found a few new friends though. It’s hard to find the young, black professional crowd, but I’m NOT giving up!

So me and my friends attend a poetry night that happens every 1st and 3rd Saturday. It’s at a cool lil spot with over priced food and drinks, but a cool lil spot nonetheless. I remember going for the first time and thinking “Dang! This is where everybody hidin!” However, I learned quickly that it really wasn’t about the scene so much as it was the poets. I mean they were REALLY GOOD. I knew I’d be a regular after that.

But there is a problem. See before the poets come on, they got this ummmm… comedian. At first I was like… oh ok… like 2 types of entertainment in one. That’s different. But after several weeks in attendance and hearing the same 10 jokes each time, I’ve outgrown it.

Like, how do you listen to a deep poem that makes you think and then , at the end, Sandman Sam deebos your thoughts with a lame joke about Prince? Or worse, about the words that left the lips of the last performer.

Maybe I’m salty. Last night I arrive late (thinking I’d missed the appetizer of jokes) and ready for the entree of passionate metaphors about life, racism, and America.

So anyways… I’m all late at the door and the scene went a lil something like this:

Comedian: Oooohhh…. Who we got at the door? Oh ok!
Me: *looking beside me to see who he talking to, yet there was no one there*
Comedian: Ok I see you. Heeeeyyyy!
Me: *smiles and waves hand*
Comedian: NOT YOU!
Me: *As I look behind me and see the “other” female he was speaking of*
(I almost forgot I was in the land of fake boobs, hair, and personalities. Why is it that everybody wanna be black but they don’t wanna BE black. But that’s a rant for another day.)

After that I sorta tuned him out cause I was asking the lady why I had to pay 10 dollars this week as opposed to the usual 6. But I heard his Color Purple jokes shortly after. Not sure what he said but I know it was in reference to me or probably my hair or whatever.

So yea… I could be salty. Or maybe I just wasn’t in a good mood to begin with and the reason I went to poetry was to uplift my spirits. And this rerun, azz wanna crack on me as soon as I walk through the door. Don’t do me. I was already mad about the fee increase. You know how some of us let that shyt ruin ya whole night.

Anyways, Imma let it go. I’m debating whether or not I should go back. I probably will for the poetry, definitely not the jokes.


September 17, 2007 - Posted by | night life

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