Failing - Part I

So, as the title of this post implies, there is some failure to talk about. But not yet. First I have to finish my story about conquering L.A.

OK, I left the OKGo audition and I'm not going to lie to you - I felt like, in the words of Bob Odenkirk, King Shit of Fuck Mountain. I mean, I knew that I had played guitar really well, and even though I hadn't exactly killed it on keyboards I knew I had done well enough to show them that I could do the job. All I wanted them to see was that I could be totally ready by the time tour rolled around and I knew I had done that.

Anywho, Bill and I headed out of OKGo-ville and hit the town. First we had a little dinner and then headed out to see the comedy show of a friend of his.

Now, let me go on record here, comedians are the worst people in the world. I know this because I once was one. They are hateful people whose funnyness is primarily derived from their own rage and insecurities. Needless to say, this makes them hard to be around for extended periods of time. In conversation they are always either doing a bit or trying to make you feel small. Fun.

I mention how much I hate comedians because before the show we had to hang out with a roomful of them. You see, the theater is connected to a bar and all the scenesters congregate there before and after performances.

So I ended up in "conversations" with lots of comedians, including a few of the lowest forms of life - TV comedy writers. There is nothing worse than a guy who's already a jerk getting a job that gives him an actual perch to look down on people from. (These observations are all obviously generalizations, but pretty true. Bill's roommate is a tv writer and a nice guy, but he's the exception that proves the rule). Anyway, here's an actual conversation I had which ranks up there in my life's top five moments of me not getting fucked with (remember that at this point I am feeling like King Shit of Fuck Mountain).

Asshole TV Writer: (with a smirk) So, what are you doing out here?
Me: Well, I came out to audition for a tour with a band.
ATVW: Wow, did you go dressed like that?

Ok, let's stop for a moment. I was wearing nice black pants, and an AC/DC t-shirt over a long underwear shirt. I may not have looked like Keith Richards, but I looked appropriately rock. I was pissed. Add to this that he and all his ass-kissing wannabe buddies were snickering like little schoolgirls and I was very pissed. And when I'm pissed and my internal fury switch is thrown I'll be the first to admit that the best I can do for a comeback is usually "um...fuck you, jerk" But being KSOFM at this point, I had something better. I took a preganant pause, looked down at my clothes and, I kid you not, said:

Me: You know what? I don't come down to where you work and slap the dick out of your mouth. So why don't you fuck off?

He looked at me blankly, said nothing and walked away.

Everything was coming up Welsh.

Tomorrow - Failure Part II