Hello everyone. I want
to believe the winter is almost over.
Let me have
my fantasy.
If you want to come to a show where I will be performing and
like to plan
ahead, here’s what’s going on:
Wednesday, March 6, 7pm NEW YORK’S GOT TALENT
This is a show
that lets you, the audience, decide who goes through each week, along with 3
New York Industry Judges (Broadway
& Off-Broadway Producers, Agents, & Directors).
Cast your vote at
The Green Room 42 to crown the winner of New York's Got Talent Season 6!
This is one where I really need supporters to attend.
Sunday, March 10, 4pm
MisFit Hive
38-02 61st
Street
Queens, NY
More details to come.
Sunday, March 31st,
8:30pm
Jazz
on the Park Hostel
36 West 106th
Street
NYC
You are welcome to BYOB.
FREE Show!
Now, for some other stuff.
As many of you know, I’m in a long penis-free
era. The door in my mind isn’t nailed shut. It’s just that I’ve gained some decent
standards over the years, and that eliminates so many. Like I say in my stand-up, I’m not looking,
but I am noticing.
Here’s a recent happening.
I got a Facebook friend request that I
expected to delete, but when I
looked at his page, unless it is all fiction, he seemed to have 2 daughters and
a dog. It said he is single. Maybe he’s divorced. I don’t know.
He claimed to be an orthopedic surgeon living in Queens. I told myself not to immediately dismiss this
one. Additionally, his picture looks
like he’s in my age range (so I had the expectation of maturity), and he’s kind
of good looking. I figured I’d accept
his friend request, and if it turns out not to be right, I’ll unfriend.
I accepted. He private
messaged, “Hi gorgeous.”
I felt turned off. I
expected better from an older, educated person.
It’s different if he knew me. I
thought he would have checked out my page and interests and accomplishments
before jumping in and commenting on the superficial.
I didn’t reply. The
next day he wrote again. He asked how I
was doing
today. Maybe he had spent a
second or two on self-reflection. I answered
truthfully. I said I was okay, off to
help a friend clean, was going to get paid, and I needed the cash. Would talk another time.
He responded with, “Okay, honey.”
I responded, “Mindy.
Save the endearing terms for those you actually
know.” Then I left my house and worked at a friend’s
house for a couple of hours.
When I got home, he had responded, “Okay. But it doesn’t matter.”
I was puzzled and further turned off. Yet I responded (I guess I’m still a
work in
progress). I first sent “?” Then I added, “The way someone talks to me
matters to me.”
He wrote back, “Okay I understand.”
That’s a surgeon, according to his page. Oh God, hopefully he understands
bones better
than he understands himself and women.
Now, people, do you see why my penis-free era is preferable?!