10/30/05 Kelowna

This past weekend’s trip to Kelowna will go down in the history books as one of the strangest experiences of my life.

The flight in was very quick; a paltry 38 minutes from take off to touchdown. Not what I’d normally call a heavy-duty investment in time. I spend more time daydreaming in the run of a day. Walking to and from work takes more time, and I do that nearly everyday.

Normally 38 minutes means very little to me. Unless that 38 minutes is taken up by sitting in a very cramped row of seats, with some fat Shithead in a Snap on Tools jacket, who insists on rocking back and forth, (while gawking at the latest issue of Maxim… and drooling like a monkey…)

My knee collided repeatedly with his chair. I now know what a pinball bumper must feel like. As if that wasn’t enough, there was an old woman behind me trying to shove her hockey bag of a purse under the seat. I became wedged in. She just kept kicking at it. So in addition to have my knees pulverized, my feet were now at an awkward angle. Every smack from him seemed to work in time with every shove from her. The result was the feeling of lightning ripping through my legs. I’m pretty sure the Nazis used this technique to extract information from the most unwilling of POWS.

When I got off the plane, and once my knees regained feeling and normal function, I found a cab and sped off to the hotel.

Once I got there, I discovered that they weren’t expecting me. Nope… They were looking for Mike Craigdallie. It took twenty minutes to the whole thing straightened out. Once I got a room, I decided to go and get some chow. I headed off to the venue, only to discover that the show posters were wrong as well. They never bothered to fix it either.

Then I discovered that they no longer provide a discount for comics. Not a huge issue, just a little hiccup.

So, fast-forward to show time. The venue is sold out, and the show goes pretty well. The feature, who I hadn’t met until mere minutes before the show, turns out to be a really good guy. So Thursday turns out to be a good night.

Friday morning I wake up with a ripper of a migraine. I was eating Tylenol like Smarties, trying to nuke that fucker in its tracks. It finally started to clear at about 6 pm. I was still feeling its after effects as I walked onto the stage.

The show started off okay, but it just really didn’t get going. The front row wasn’t very cooperative, and I just didn’t seem to get the room motivated. I tried, but it just didn’t catch. It was like trying to light wet matches.

The Saturday show was worse. Before I had even said a word, two drunk, and very trashy women in the front row decided they wanted to take the show over. I smoked them 5 or 6 times, and it didn’t matter. They just kept going. After 20 minutes of having to deal with them the management of the club finally decided to do something about them. By that time I was so angry, it was difficult to stay focused. At least I took the bullet, and alleviated any static they would have given Pete.

After the show, we decided to get some Pizza. Around the corner from our hotel was a pizza place called “Pizzaway.” They have excellent food. Pete and I ordered, and waited in the shop till it was ready.

We were chatting away, and had both looked out the window at the same time. It was at that moment that a red sports car came tearing through the parking lot. It ripped down, and tried to head out onto the street. A police crusier came up the same street to cut it off, and the red car crashed into a tree. Suddenly there were 5 more police cars, and officers running to the newly wrecked car, guns drawn, and screaming very loudly.

They were like piranhas on a carcass. The door of the car was ripped open, and the cops dragged the driver out and pinned him to the ground. Then I heard the words “Canada wide,” and “warrant” too, and then a lot of screaming from the perp.

After that we got to eat our pizza and get interviewed by an RCMP constable for a while. She was quite pleasant, but still very efficient.

It was almost impossible to get to sleep after that. Pete offered to take me to the bus station for 7 this morning, but I just let him sleep. I figured at least one of us should get a decent sleep. After a mere 10 hours on the bus I made it home.

I’m not sure how I feel about the weekend. I’m exhausted and a little shell shocked.