Dinner with Friends Part 2: Shirley You Jest

I'm glad to say this past week brought me and the light at the end of the tunnel closer to each other than ever before. I attended a meeting with a psychiatrist for the first time ever and I have officially joined the throngs of Americans who now rely on antidepressants to get them through the day. Is there reason to believe that stunning reality is in-part the result of a corrupt and cruel political and economic system that places undue burden on the majority of the populace to secure basic needs? Naw, it's more likely its the midichlorians in our systems or whatever-the-hell Scientologists believe.

Skepticism aside, I'm genuinely feeling positive about the future. I wouldn't go so far as to say I've been reentering my work and hobbies with a renewed sense of relish, but with a little more help, I'm sure I'll be revolving in the right direction by the New Year.

Which is just as well; when I thanked my friend Shirley for simply being there for me she told me, "Once you're up, I'm sure you'll have the strength to help a friend who's down." I do want that very much...well preferably I would like everyone I know to be happy but as that is not possible, I would like to be as supportive as I can.

Shirley, my closest comedian confidant, was the next friend I invited to dinner because I knew she'd be a challenge. Her and girl Casey are my biggest gets given the later is a vegan and the former is the pickiest eater I've ever met. So it was a huge surprise Shirley said yes immediately and without much followup. When she arrived she wondered allowed why people hadn't arrived and I had to explain to her it was just her. This in turn started the evening with an awkward air, resembling a comedy of errors. After I explained what my intentions were (a thank you, a form of fun and a form of therapy) she laughed off the situation.

Depiction of how I must have looked at that moment...

Since Shirley is a Louisiana transplant and picky beyond comprehension, I went through great pains to make sure the food was both to her liking and customizable. Dirty Cajun rice in a dark roue without baked beans, and sausage (on the side). Veggies were present but infused into the meal as to be nearly invisible. I also made pork cracklings braised in red wine assuming they'd be just for me but she took one to be a good sport. "I often starve myself before attending dinner at someones place so I'm too hungry to care what they're feeding me."

She charged through the meal like the best of them. I'm not sure if it was genuine or her southern manners but she commented it was the first time she's eaten everything on her plate in a long time. It was true, her plate was completely clean by the end of the meal. My reaction would have been described as bashful if it wasn't accompanied by hands raised to the sky as if I'd scored a goddamn touchdown.

After dinner and decent conversation, we watched part of A Fish Called Wanda before it was time to go to the mic - she almost pasted out on my bed again. I could tell she came over less out of desire and more out of loyalty, though I do truly enjoy her company no matter what condition she's in. I often worry about her and her mental state. She has amazing talent and an uncommon drive but a level of impatience that gets to be too self-critical. She's reached a threshold at this moment comedy-wise and often acts like a fly buzzing about a hot window just looking for a way to continue to the next level. "Patience is a virtue I do not possess," she has said to me more than once. "Well get some," I sometimes respond. She then follows it up with something instantly hilarious that makes me wonder how she comes up with it.

On the way to the mic, our conversation ebbed into familiar territory  - to that of a raw talent I shall now refer to as Duke. Duke indescribably absurd stage persona is one of minor legend within the scene at the moment. He's young - very young, but his ability to coax uncontrollable laughter from even the most jaded people is so distinct that it gets comedians twice his age to scoff in jealousy. I myself would be jealous if I also wasn't sure his stage persona was real. He doesn't have a buffer between who he is on stage and who he really is. He's just Duke; a refreshingly sweet, lovably doofy walking piece of human scaffolding. He's Dostoyevsky's The Idiot only living in a world much more corrosive. Shirley and I both agreed on the car ride up, he needs protection.

I iz comedian!

While I want to know him and get close enough to him to be his friend, Shirley's vibrancy has already made that a reality for her. It's a double-edged sword. Men orbit her like a sun and often get burned to cinders as a result. I myself have been lightly singed; her personality can be so intoxicating even if you're taken or in my case AD (After Dating). Yeah, I broke down and asked Shirley out, she said no and after a day tending to my wounded ego, I got over it. If I've learned anything from a long term 8-year relationship, it's no woman is worth excessive grief. Ultimately romance is just another, slightly richer flavor of friendship. I'm cool with that.

And what I get from this specific friendship is honestly invaluable. Professionally, she's a workhorse and an unabashed ladder climber which potentially helps me once I get the chops to actually bring the funny. She also has an astuteness about comedy which makes her a fun writing partner. What I give in-turn (or at least what I think I give her) is a slightly different road - that of a writer. The more I do standup the more I'm aware my writing would be better suited to TV, books, magazines and blog posts. She'll open doors for me, I'll open doors for her.

Aside from professional help though, she also has a genuinely big heart and a sincere desire to create an inclusive joy de vivre which is what I really admire.