Tonight I get to be the ticket lady at a comedy show on Capitol Hill. I’m so excited. It really feels like my dream-job: sitting at the tall chair by the entrance to the bar, taking cash and putting it in that cool metal box, scanning cards on the phone they give me. I’m witty and charming and unpretentious, so most people don’t hate me. The comedy host is a friend of mine and I basically begged him for this gig.
What he only sort-of realizes is that I really don’t get out much, so I need motivation. I have these kids and a job, see – and yoga class. And then I write and I really like to sleep and I try to shower or bathe almost daily. And like, this whole “eating and feeding a family” thing takes a lot of time. And on top of that I’m lazy and I don’t want to drive and deal with parking near Broadway and uggghhhh, should I just Uber?
But now I have a job to do, now I have to go out and have fun, now I’m being forced from my cozy cave of introversion.
It’s time to get ready for this shindig!
What does a ticket lady wear?
A little black dress?
I thought so….
And maybe a mustache to go with it.