aprlouise

Finally, October 3rd. I had been waiting for this day for oh so long. I woke up at 6:27 am, three whole minutes before my alarm was set to go off. And as much as I hate to get up before the sun rises, I had a little bit of a spring in my step, which, by the way, isn’t a very good thing to have in the shower. After slipping and sliding and falling and laughing, I then got ready for work. And as much as I hate having to work, I was excited since I was only working a half day. After pretending to work all morning, it was finally noon and time to go home.

Now you may be wondering, why was I so excited? Well, WB, Sam and I had tickets to see Kathy Griffin, the two-time emmy award-winning, star of My Life On The D-List, perform at the Orpheum Theatre in Minneapolis. The weekend had been planned for months. I was in charge of tickets, WB was in charge of lodging and Sam was in charge of getting herself to Minnesota. We were all mildly successful in completing our tasks.

After eating a delicious, but expensive meal at Red Lobster we ventured on. Sam in the driver’s seat, WB riding shotgun and me all alone in the backseat. After getting lost 12 times, asking for directions 11 times, going through 7 tunnels, over 26 bridges, killing 3 rabbits and a family of racoons we finally made it to our destination, our five star hotel, Dollar Tree.

We checked in, freshened up and headed out. It was late and we were in the big city so we planned on taking a taxi cab. We stood on the corner of the street circling around in a confused manner looking for one. Probably not the best place for three young, attractive, provocatively dressed chicas to be. But we needed a ride.

I flung up my arm and whistled for a taxi. Across the street in a beat-up, dented taxi cab with it’s lights off, sat a Darius Rucker look-a-like, who waved us to come over. Thinking he was off-duty or on a break we kept looking for another cab. Hootie then revved up his engine and floored the gas pedal and came straight towards us. We’re gonna die I thought. But before I was hit, the Mario Andretti wanna-be slammed on the brakes and cranked the steering wheel causing his two left tires to go up the curb and back down. When I opened my eyes he was parked nicely and perfectly against the curb. “Where to?” he yelled. I could tell WB and Sam were a little hesitant to get in so I climbed in first. I love danger.

All smushed in, we told him we needed to go to the Orpheum. “Downtown?” he asked, rather dumfounded. “No, the Orpheum in Memphis, Tennessee bitch,” I thought. But thankfully WB politely and fearfully answered “yes.” I guess it was his first night driving. At that time I noticed he was smoking a cigarette and before I could tell him that I was a mild asthmatic, he gunned the car and my head hit the window. He slowed down at the stop sign and took a sharp left turn and drove 10 feet and stopped. “That’ll be 5 bucks.” WB knew she got us a hotel close to the Theatre but didn’t realize it was that close.

The Orpheum’s sign was lit up, Kathy Griffin’s name was on the marquee. We were here. After waiting in line for what seemed like an eternity we made it to the ticket-scanner. The ticket-scanner lady (who kind of resembled Elmira Gulch from the Wizard of Oz) scanned WB’s ticket first but her scanner-gun made a god-awful buzzing noise. My stomach dropped, oh crap I thought. I had been a little apprehensive because I bought the tickets online and had printed them out on computer paper. So instead of a 5x3 cardboard ticket like everybody else, we had an 8 1/2 x 11 full-sheet piece of paper. Not discouraged or panicked, Miss Gultch scanned the second barcode and the machine made a wonderful, beautiful bloop noise and WB was allowed to proceed forward. Sam then blooped and then I blooped. God bless America I thought as I wiped the sweat from my temple. We were in!!

But before we could go find our seats, WB and her 97 year old bladder had to use the ladies room. Finally, finally, we found our Row O balcony seats and patiently waited for the event to begin. The lights dimmed and a video montage of Kathy’s screen work played. And then out she ran on the stage … at about the exact time the people in front of us and next to us decided to show up. A-holes.

Kathy Griffin was awesome. I sat in my seat and was so happy. I smiled and grinned and chuckled and giggled and laughed and then laughed harder and then laughed and peed a little and then laughed and started coughing and then turned blue and fell on the floor. It was spectacular. The show, which lasted 2 hours, was everything I imagined it to be. I was not disappointed. And as much as I didn’t want it to end, I knew it was time. I was getting tired and Kathy’s raspy voice was worn out. She had given us everything we wanted and everything we came for.

After the blinding lights came back on and I tried to dry off my soiled seat, WB, Sam and I filed out of the building in hopes of getting a picture of the Kathy Griffin marquee out front for our scrapbooks and myspace pages. We very disappointed when we found out that it had already been changed to Alanis Morrissette. It’s a good thing I took a mental picture. Click.

Being conscientious of the bad economy, WB, Sam and I decided to save 5 bucks and just walk back to the hotel. It’s funny how a 30 second cab ride took us 58 minutes. Oh well, it was a nice night and we ended up seeing a large part of the city on our walk.

By the time we got back to the hotel, I was completely exhausted. As I layed on my Dollar Tree hotel feather pillow I thought about how great it all had been.

Waking up before dawn; Slipping and sliding in the shower; Having a job to go to; Leaving work early and getting paid for it; Hanging out with friends; Eating shrimp for the first time; Sitting in the backseat by myself; Getting lost; Laughing; Hailing down a taxi cab; Almost getting runned over by a taxi cab; Seeing a comedian perform live; Laughing; Peeing; Walking; Getting lost again; Sleeping. - Life is good.