I live in New York. I am a comedian, writer and actor. My day job is blogging for VH1.com. I write about the silly things celebrities and pop stars do, so you know...God's work.
You may have seen my writing on many other reputable websites (McSweeney's, The Huffington Post, Hello Giggles, xojane.com, The Hairpin, Splitsider, The FW, etc.). I also write crazy blogs about Game of Thrones, Magneto and Jeff Goldblum.
Life's weird, right?
Last night I had what is probably the ideal UCB night at the UCB. I saw Brent Sullivan’s absolutely brilliant and hilarious “Profiles in Cowardice” and the equally hysterically funny “The Honeymen: A Salute to Honey”. I drank two glasses of red wine. I caught up with old pals at the theater. I wandered to McManus and drank too much and ate too much and showed too much regard for an Epcot ride. It was the platonic ideal of a night at the UCB and I highly recommend both shows and discussing the Epcot ride, “Maelstrom”, at all times with people.
Okay, so my favorite pair of pants was ruined by one of the seats at the UCB.
Well, you know how a ton of the seats in the theater are covered in tape and postcards and more tape to keep the springs from coming up out of the seats and poking you in the butt while you’re watching a show? Well, despite all of the tape, the numerous postcards and the still more tape on my seat, as soon as I sat down, two springs poked into my butt and caught on the seat of my pants.
So, I pouted and made a whining joke about it and tried my best to ignore it. But as I shifted in my seat, I noticed that my pants were caught on the springs. The springs had hooked into the seat of my pants and I had to wiggle around to free myself.
After Brent’s show was over, I complained about it to my friend and I ran to the bathroom to see if there had been actual damage or if I was crazy.
Sure enough, two tiny holes were now in the seat of my favorite black jeans. Not noticeable, but totally and completely and truly there.
We switched seats for the next show and then after The Honeymen took their bows, I sheepishly told the interns and the house manager. I felt super bad because I knew it wasn’t their fault and they were completely nice about it. I was told to call someone today at the theater and that I would be sure to be reimbursed for my pants.
I’m obviously really mad about all this because I’m not even halfway through a TL;DR blog post.
It sucks that my favorite pants are ruined, but I mean, okay, whatever. They were just a pair of black jeans I bought last month on sale at Urban Outfitters. I can walk in and pick up another pair easy peasy. Whatever. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not a big deal. The holes are really tiny anyway.
I am a little miffed that I have to make a phone call. I hate making phone calls. I vastly prefer to write passive-aggressive blog entries and hope my problem is solved by internet crowd sourcing. But I’m not super angry about a dumb phone call, either.
The thing that is making me angry about this is the fact that I don’t want to be angry at the UCB! I hated having to point out to the house manager where the bad springs poked me. I hated having to listen to him profusely apologize for something that wasn’t his fault and explain that it’s been a problem and that someone’s $600 Brooks Brothers suit was ruined by the same seat. I hated having to move to yet another broken seat during intermission. I hated that my new seat was also broken. I actually hate having to write this blog post because I really, really, really don’t want to make a stink because I love the UCB, but because I do love the theater and because I do want to go back there and not worry about whether or not my pants are going to be ruined, I have to make a slight fuss.
I really think the UCB needs to buy some fucking new seats. I know it costs a lot of money, but you can’t tell me that a benefit show couldn’t be organized or a kickstarter couldn’t be kickstarted. The maddening thing though is I was told that it’s not actually a matter of money, but aesthetics. Evidently, someone up top thinks it’s really cool to have broken seats. Like it’s punk rock or something.
Um, as someone who loves love loves the UCB and its aesthetic to the core, may I chime in and say it’s NOT COOL to have fucking springs up your ass while you’re trying to focus and enjoy your peers on stage?
It’s not cool.
Whatever. “Profiles in Cowardice” and “The Honeymen: A Salute To Honey” are two of the best original shows I’ve seen at the UCB and you should definitely check both of them out. THE SHOWS ARE SO SO SO GOOD. Just be careful about choosing seats?? Wear pants you don’t mind having holes in? I don’t know. I have to figure out what phone number to call to get reimbursed for my dumb black jeans because, you know, the UCB is going to be kind enough to offer to reimburse me.
Yeah, I don’t know, either.