Friday is day two of the Bridgetown fest. Lots more comedy, lots more donuts, lots more booze. The best/worst part of all of that is that it’s free for me. Just another low-level show business perk. News of last night’s cheeseburger incident spread through the Twitterverse, and by that I mean two people who were at the show mentioned it:
Then around 3am, several hours after the show, the Eagles Lodge ended up tweeting at me to apologize. That really surprised me. First because I couldn’t believe they felt that bad about it, then because I couldn’t believe a VFW had a Twitter account. Nonetheless, they apologized, and I responded by telling them their interruption was a gift.
My show on Friday is at an amazing venue called the Bossanova Ballroom. I host the show, there’s an great lineup and it could not go better. Except maybe if someone from the sound booth had announced me coming to the stage. Instead, I just walk out there and hope everyone understands that signals the show is starting. If you’re curious about the full lineup, you can check it out here on Bridgetown’s site. I’ll spare you the full description of everyone’s set, and just say they all killed it.
Photo Credit: Visual Karisma
The highlight of the show is Maria Bamford closing it out. The crowd is live and energetic for the entire show, but there’s a definite escalation when I introduced Bamford. Everyone left happy.
I spend the rest of the night hopping from show to show, dipping into greenrooms grabbing the free beer and watching a few sets. We eventually venture to the perpetual open mic that the festival set up for those performers looking to get on stage on their off nights. After that we head to a house party, where I leave my credentials on a table when the cops break the party up and I scurry out in a hurry.
I head to the official after-party (are you noticing a theme yet?). Credentials are required to enter and I just have an empty lanyard. I had pulled the credentials out of the holder for something, and never put them back. When the door guy at the after party says, “Lemme see everyone’s badges.” I drunkenly held up my empty lanyard and tried to walk upstairs. “It’s empty, bro.” he yells. “Oh s***,” I answer and think I’ve party fouled myself out of the party. Luckily, someone recognized me from the earlier show and I was back in action. SFPR.
Now I’m off to get a new badge. I’m not booked on anything tonight, so I’ll be spending the evening show-hopping, playing fanboy.