A nice, well-meaning slap in the face.

Last night the hubby and I went out to see Henry Rollins rant and rave and do his generally outstanding spoken-word thang in Baltimore. He’s got a potty mouth (show me the comedian who doesn’t), but he’s so refreshingly intelligent and cuttingly perceptive that you don’t even notice. And the other thing? Pretty much all his stuff is good, and constantly evolving. Some of my other favorite comedians – Margaret Cho (whew, talk about potty mouths!) and Eddie Izzard – have one really fantastic DVD each, and then a bunch of just-ok ones.  (If you haven’t seen Dress to Kill, by the way, the power of comedy compells you!) Another guy I went to see on my birthday did the same show he did the year before. Which sucked.

But anyway. We love Henry! So we brave rush-hour traffic, wait an hour to get in the door (in Baltimore at night in mid-February!), squeeeeeeeze between rows of bargain-basement folding plastic chairs, and get a seat not three rows from the stage. Rock on!

Not quite. There’s a woman sitting in front of us, fur collar, Gucci bag (ok I made that up, I wouldn’t know a Gucci from a Kmart), styled blonde hair… and at first I don’t give her a second glance. Until Josh notices there’s a bar in the corner. I’m like “well I can’t drink,” and he’s like “hells yeah! I love having a designated driver!” and the lady turns around with her mouth agape and is like “You are so mean!” Josh tries to explain that it’s because I’m pregnant, and she was like “of course I know she’s pregnant. I can’t believe you’re talking like that to a pregnant woman!” We smile and laugh politely, and stare at each other when she turns away again. Woulda been weird enough, right? But no. There’s more.

…(15 minutes later)…

Josh: “Why are you taking off your sweater? Aren’t you cold?”

Lady: “No, she’s not cold. She’s pregnant. If she’s like my sister-in-law, she’s not cold.”

…(10 minutes later)…

Josh: “Oh look, there are the bathrooms. Me first!”

Lady: “You’re going to make a pregnant lady wait? How rude!”

Me: “I peed five minutes ago.”

…(15 minutes later)…

Josh: “Yay, now I get the aisle seat!”

Lady: “I would have traded places to give the pregnant lady the aisle seat.”

Notice how I never seem to respond? That’s because the lady jumped in first. In a private conversation. Between a husband and wife. From a row ahead of us.

So the first time it was kinda funny. Weird, but funny. And then… If I had any quantity of the guts that V has, I would probably have told her politely to go do something relatively unpleasant… or at least to mind her own business. Instead, because we are pansies, we smiled politely each time.

I’m sure the lady thought she was being chivalrous and defending my honor, or friendly and funny, but guess what? Verbally bitchslapping my husband is not really the best way to make friends with me. Especially since I actually chose him to be my knight in shining armor, and you?… You’re some nosy chick sitting in front of us at a Henry Rollins show.

Also, I’m not that pregnant.

Leave a Reply

XHTML: You can use these tags: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

:mrgreen: :neutral: :twisted: :shock: :smile: :???: :cool: :evil: :grin: :oops: :razz: :roll: :wink: :cry: :eek: :lol: :mad: :sad: