Comedy Club

[Martin Hash]

Hash Bash had winded down and only a few people were still around so Friday night we decided to go to Harvey’s Comedy Club in Portland. They’d called and offered us free tickets for as many as we wanted to bring to the 10:30pm showing, so we loaded up the van and headed over.

The comedians weren’t that good. Usually I like politically incorrect humor but this stuff was just lame. I hardly laughed but that’s okay because there was other entertainment than the show. For example, my wife, Gwynne, caught my eye and pointed to the left.

“What?” I asked.

“Boob,” she said.

Quizzically, I looked closer. By golly there was a gal with her endowments hanging free of her loose-fronted party dress. I’m pretty sure she was unaware that the men in the audience were staring at here in silent appreciation. But just then my concentration was broken by a loud distraction in the back of the room.

A group of women were standing around another woman who had collapsed drunk. She was just laid there, giggling. A big group of guys near her didn’t notice. In fact, I don’t think they even knew a show was going on. They were so loud that anybody within 10 feet of them couldn’t possibly have heard the comedians. I saw a bouncer go back to quiet them down but they just ignored him. Anyway, he had lots of other more important outbreaks to attend to.

On the way home, I asked Holmes how he liked the show.

“I couldn’t see the stage through all the commotion down in front. What was it with the guy throwing the chair? “ Holmes asked.

“What was it with his loudmouthed girlfriend? … She was cute too.” Jody commented. “Those two Rastafarian bouncers sure hustled him out of there fast.”

“Those weren’t bouncers…,” I corrected him. “They were just some guys in the audience that got their water spilled during the fighting.”

We passed a homeless woman sleeping in front of the train station while walking back to the van. She cursed at Gwynne and called her names. But by this time, Holmes was accustomed to it.

“Our comedy clubs aren’t like this is Seattle,” he said. “They’re not as funny.”