The Comedian

A routine ::is-this-really-my-life?!:: freak out session led me to enroll in a comedic writing course at Chicago's historic Second City last fall. I wasn't expecting to turn into Stephen Colbert, but I thought that the class would be a lot of fun and that I'd meet some really cool people. Cue The Comedian. He was short, frumpy, and had a killer sense of humor (naturally). We didn't interact much during the semester, but remained in touch after the course ended. He asked me out sometime after that.

Initially, I was quite astonished by The Comedian's offer. I was clearly out of this guy's league. He was potentially setting himself up for one hell of an embarrassing (and painful) rejection. Lucky for him though, my initial shock soon led to devout admiration. The Comedian was able to do what other men are typically too intimidated to do - ask me out on a date. He did it with such confidence, such ease that I couldn't help but respect him for it... and be mildly curious. Surely he must be packin' if he's this confident, right?!

Our first date was spectacular! The Comedian was easygoing, chivalrous, and just as much of a political junkie as I am. Our conversation flowed naturally and steadily. I found myself sashaying to the restroom just so he could see me work it in my flouncy leopard print skirt and stiletto boots. Upon returning, I planted myself seductively on his lap and went in for the kiss. Fireworks all around! Was it the liquor flowing or was I actually falling for this guy? We barhopped around the area and ended up at a pizza place near his apartment. The Comedian suggested we watch a movie at his place (no harm in testing the waters) but did not fuss when I declined and tenderly put me into a cab at the end of the night. I was hooked! Needless to say I told anyone and EVERYONE that would listen about our amazing date the next day and played it cool until he called.

The Comedian waited the prerequisite number of days permissible and called to arrange a second rendez-vous. We agreed to meet at Second City and barhop once again. When I arrived (fashionably late to make a grand entrance), I noticed he was in a bit of a funky mood. Boy was that the understatement of the century! All of The Comedian's funny little self-deprecating jokes that were charming circa date one gave way to a laundry list of insecurities. The more he drank, the more our date became a therapy session. He talked about how much he hated Second City and how he left several opportunities in Texas to move to Chicago. He repeatedly mentioned his disbelief at being out with "someone like me," (a compliment the first time, an insult the eighteenth) and his amazement at there being a second date (i like you stupid fuck, don't ruin it). "I need to make you my girlfriend," he slurred. At this point, the whole situation wreaked of desperation and date gone disaster. To top off my night, he shamelessly tried to get me to go back to his place, becoming more forceful with each attempt. ::ACCESS DENIED:: I must have looked beyond pissed because he claimed to have a migraine shortly thereafter, walked me to the bus stop, and sulked home.

He didn't call again; Neither did I. We left it at that. It was better to learn about (and subsequently run away from) the crazy sooner than be blindsided by the wrath of a meltdown later when fully vested. And I thought that that was the last I'd hear from The Comedian. I was wrong. But more on that later...