Taking a cue from, no on in particular, but someone who doesn't sitting idly by while cool events pass her by, I decided that Jim Gaffigan is performing in Reno, and I will go and enjoy seeing him. Besides, it's The Sexy Tour. I have to go.
Armed with a free room at Circus Circus and buffet coupons, I and my significant male friend with whom I share romantic feelings with headed east for some second hand smoke and good laughs. I do admit I worried about paying fifty bucks to hear recycled material. I made sure we had Adam Carolla podcasts to listen to on the way up instead of Jim Gaffigan routines. Then I worried that Carolla would be funnier.
That's my problem. Anxiety that fun will not happen. Or the maximum amount of fun possible that could happen will not be attained. It's a problem I'm working out with my therapist. Seriously, it's a big deal. I went to the bathroom four times before seeing Jeff Ross because I didn't want to miss a minute. I also didn't eat or drink during the show just to be safe. It was a cramped venue and I was sweating all over my boyfriend so I could avoid being arm to arm with the guy on my left. Venue aside, it was a great show. It started in the way his CD did, but it took a turn and I did not stop laughing for an hour and a half. Speaking as a math person, I'd say only 20% of the material was recycled. That's a great percentage for a professional comedian. And you have to do the bits you're famous for.
Overall well worth the distance traveled and money paid. But this is what kills me. After the show there was a line for pictures and autographs. I was tired and I really wanted to just go back to the room and crash. What was wrong with me? My die hard obsession was almost trumped by "I don't don't want to wait in line and freak out about what to say to this guy". I thought back to when I saw Penn & Teller with my friends in Las Vegas. Following their show, I wanted to wait and get a picture with them. My friends didn't want to and we headed back to the hotel. I missed out on what exactly? A cool few minutes with C-list celebrities? But years later I regretted not speaking up.
Lucky for me, my boyfriend was the voice of reason (that is reason in the world of pop culture geeks) and even though he would have gone with me back to the room, he wanted to wait. Since he did, I decided I shouldn't deny him and we waited. (I would do that later in the room.) Over an hour later, it was a brief awkward moment of asking him to sign my ticket and telling him that that I collected them. One picture later, it was over. I look at it now and I don't feel my life is any richer for the experience.
I take that back. I'm proud that I stayed. I have my picture and autograph. I had an amazing weekend and saw a great show. Good times. I guess that's all there is to really say about it. I should go. I suddenly have this craving for a bacon wrapped hot pocket.
