Day One in LA
Day one was a Tuesday: I landed safely at the Bob Hope Int’l Airport, with my luggage in attendance and in tact. I hailed a taxi to my (new) home. It was 105 degrees and I texted my friend Sarie to confirm my arrival. Sitting in the back of the very efficient, but ugly hybrid, flying down the 101, I had a little question in my head. “Am I in the right place?” and “Someone please show me, am I in the right place?” I arrived home and the driver unloaded my bags onto the sidewalk by the curb numbered 17525. My skin instantly appreciated the heat. My housemate was working and the pups were barking in the back yard through the seams of the tall steel gate. I hadn’t seen them in 5 weeks and the last time I saw them I had only spent 1 week with them before I left for back East. I worried they wouldn’t remember me and that I would scare them. I shuffled my bags through the hall bumping the walls and the pups, Toby and Selby. I layed down for a bit on my gay pink bedspread. I missed it, yeah, my bedspread, I said it. I had been in transition for 13 weeks and that was a little piece of home for me in my new place.
I showered and hopped on MapQuest to find Hamburger Mary’s so I could get to my very first comedy show on time in beautiful LA. Buzzed over Laurel Canyon, passing by Mulholland Dr. (“Okay movie..” I thought, “..well at least that chick was really hott in it.”), landing in West Hollywood. I think Laurel Canyon is to LA what Lombard St. is to SF, steep, winding and fun. What the fuck do I know? Parking was strangely simple, so I got to the venue early. I crossed the street with a MySpace friend I had never met in person. Faith is a comedian too. She was far shorter in person than I thought she’d be (sorry Faith). The place was full of queer friendly faces, it was West Hollywood afterall.
I met the host of the show, Jerry Callum. He was warm and helped me feel comfortable walking into a brand new place. Then I was reminded that it was a contest. “A FUCKING WHAT?” I screamed a the top of my lungs (in my head). Sidebar: Contests and recording for television shows give me instant diarreah, so I quickly hit the the restroom to [ahem] ‘regroup’.
There were 10-12 comics that competed that evening in LA’s Gay Mafia Comedy Competition with their 5 minutes. Three would be selected and advance to the next round of the competition (the finals). The end of the night came and I was one of the winners that night.
I went back to the question that was in my head earlier that day getting off the plane. “Am I in the right place?”
I think I know the answer, for now.
Gratitude if you read this, thanks.
Love you, mean it.
Ian
