Captain Pussy

This isn’t a story about a restaurant but to be fair part of it did occur in what would eventually be a snack bar. And once again–I’m not making ANY of this up.

Back in ’98 I was running a comedy show at this dive bar in my hometown. By running I mean I was promoting it, booking it, hosting it, and most of the time performing in it. I had gotten an article written about it in the local paper (newspaper that is–a printed form of mass communication that used to convey information to the public. See: ancient history/shit that nobody reads anymore). In the interview I had mistakenly thrown out words that were something to the effect that comedy is hard to get into but I would be happy to let neophytes get on stage and try it if they wanted to. Stage time IS actually very hard to get in the comedy world and I had good intentions when I made that statement. And of course those words came back to bite me on the ass like a bad case of AIDS-infected syphilitic jumping crabs.

On the night of (ironically enough) the last show a guy approached me about two hours before showtime and told me he read the article and wanted to know if I would give him a few minutes of stage time. This guy was already hammered–pounding beers like there was some new pussy at the bottom of the bottle and repeatedly taking swigs from a flask and all the while playing the Golden Tee machine like it gave a cash prize. Even though it’s generally a bad idea to get on stage fitshaced like that I agreed to let him do it. At the rate he was going I wasn’t all that sure he would remember our conversation much less be conscious by the time he was supposed to go on, so I mentioned this concern to him.

‘Aw don’t worry about that, man!’ he assured me. ‘I’m rolling like a motherfucker. Probably won’t sleep til Sunday.’

It was Tuesday.

Fudge me in my fudgehole.

I was hosting that night so after I did my set and brought up the first couple of comedians I decided to bring this guy up. Since there  was a better than even chance he was going to bomb like the Enola friggin Gay (that’s a combination historical/comedy reference and if you actually get it then you are probably too smart to be reading THIS blog), I figured it was a good idea to put him in a spot in the beginning half of the show so that the more experienced comics could keep the momentum going. It was good, logical thinking on my part but little did I know that logic had packed its shit and moved off to Tampa several hours ago.

I didn’t even know the guy’s name at the time so when I asked him how he wanted me to intro him he just said two words: Captain Pussy.

Damn. What a catchy name. Why didn’t I have the foresight to go by the stage name Captain Pussy? How my career could have taken off if only I was known as Captain Pussy! As the French say: Quel Domage. Which is French for ‘Aw Fuck!’ I think.

When the guy before him was on stage doing his set and getting his laughs The Captain went into this large broom closet in the back of the room to prepare for his debut performance. This broom closet was later expanded and turned into a small kitchen area that made quesadillas and such so I guess in a very small way this is a restaurant story after all.

Once the other guy was through I got back up there to introduce El Capitan. I grabbed the mic and announced ‘Ladies and Gentlemen I have absolutely no idea what’s about to happen next but I’m sure it’s going to be . . . interesting. Please give it up for  . . . CAPTAIN PUSSY ! ! !’ to a smattering of polite applause.

And then the door of that broom closet was kicked open.

BOOM!

And out walked the good captain.

Apparently what he did when he went back in that broom closet was take off ALL his clothes (no small feat considering he was an investment broker by day and was wearing a full suit and tie). He used a clear plastic tarp as his ‘cape’ and a mop head for his wig. He tucked all his junk in between his legs Silence Of The Lambs style and somehow managed to run AND JUMP the three feet up to the stage, all the while keeping his man bits tucked in. I had trouble walking up the steps keeping my shirt tucked in so bravo, Captain. Bravo.

I don’t remember exactly what I was thinking at the time. I just remember introing this guy and then the next thing I saw was this crazy 250 lb naked lunatic with a tucked in dick  running and jumping on the stage. I guess my instincts took over because as he was jumping up to the stage I was jumping down into the audience. Whatever he had planned, I didn’t want any part of it.

So as I was rolling around on the floor laughing my ass off with everybody else, the Captain was spewing some kind of ridiculously insane gibberish about being the guardian of the vagina or something like that. Honestly I have no idea what he said.

And I don’t think anybody else knew what he said or what he was going on about. Including and especially him. We were all too busy laughing at one of the craziest, stupidest spectacles in our fair city’s history. Easily hands down the most fucked up thing I ever saw in my standup experiences. I’ve had better shows. I’ve had worse shows. But that one stands out as the most memorable.

The real hero of this story is the poor bastard that had to follow that. That titan of a comedian, whose name is lost in time, really took one for the team that night. In one of the loosest, easiest rooms in the known universe he got NO laughs. I even searched my records of the event in order to pay him homage now but couldn’t find it. That night probably ended his career. He probably had to follow the naked guy and bombed and said ‘Fuck this shit I quit!’

The next day I fielded a very angry phone call from the club owner, who was a real dick. No, really. His name was Richard.

‘What do mean letting a naked guy get on my stage last night? I could lose my liquor license if the alcohol commission gets any complaints about a naked guy on the stage!’ he screamed into the phone.

Hey man he wasn’t naked naked.

He was wearing a cape.

Dignity and Respect

Me, The JerBear

13 Comments

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13 responses to “Captain Pussy

  1. Oh my god! This entire post had me giggling at my computer like a mongoloid. Gotta love drunk people!

  2. Yer Dad

    Yeah, I was there that night and it was something else. I kinda got the idea that the end of the Comedy Nights would be coming after that spectacle. It was a shame as those Comedy Shows were usually pretty entertaining.

    • I appreciate the compliments and I’d like to return them. I’m all about showing the love, but I’ve been reading some of your blog and we seem to hold different opinions about some key issues concerning the food service industry. Specifically I’ve read most of the posts you wrote that slammed wait staff and those posts came off as really mean-spirited and bigoted. Perhaps I misread them and you were trying to be funny or sardonic, but I don’t think that’s the case.

      Before I really get into this let me start off by saying that I absolutely agree with your philosophy about having a good work ethic, so I don’t necessarily disagree with everything you wrote. But when you get on the internet and slam waiters and waitresses and write about how just about everything they do ‘gets on your nerves’ is when I have to hold up my hand and say Whoa. If you had actually read my blog and done more than stop by to copy paste an obligatory generic compliment in the comment section for (as far as I can tell) the sole purpose of spamming a link to your blog, then you would have found out that I am dedicated to promoting an attitude of dignity and respect towards restaurant industry employees. From what I’ve read of your blog you seem to hate servers, customers, coworkers, the booking manager, hell even everybody. Well, everybody except REAL people, the only kind of people that have any value. You know–managers. I’ve seen this Holier-Than-Thou, New Sheriff mentality in so many managers in my career that it makes me sad. Whether you want to admit it or not, kid, YOU and your mindset are part of the problem. I can help you out with this but the first thing you should do is let go of the hate.

      In case you were unaware, there is a large number of people in the dining public that hold us in very low regard and treat us accordingly. They don’t need any more motivation to take out their frustrations on us, nor do they need any more affirmation that it is acceptable to do so. Whenever you get on a public forum and say that servers are stupid and lazy you will always get some people that agree with you. It doesn’t, however, do anything positive. If judging or insulting people who you deem to be inferior is the only way you can feel better about yourself then I feel sorry for you. I hope your life gets better, man.

      I noticed that you sign off on your posts with the words ‘I need to get a real job.’

      This is how I sign off on mine:

      Dignity and Respect
      Me, The JerBear

      • JerBear,

        I respect YOUR opinions, well noted. I try to write about the things that make my job difficult. To give readers an idea of the managers’ side of things.

        There are plenty of blogs/sites that take the waiter side, and they are fine, better than that they are great. But many of these sites have the same take on things towards the customers that walk into their establishment. They complain, moan and curse at them saying awful things. But that’s expected from the “waiter public”.

        But now when a manager in the food business dares to do the same, dares to talk about the things WE deal with regarding our coworkers, the waiters, bartenders and Sales Chicks, we are frowned upon as disrespectful or mean-spirited and hateful?

        We focus on customer service and only want the same from our staff, to look at the people that give us their money and pay our salaries. Many times waiters/servers only look at it day-to-day and not the long term. “This customer was a bitch”, screw -em and I’ll write about them tomorrow when I get home. What about customer retention?

        I still wish you and your blog well. Hope you do the same for me.
        The Banquet Manager

        P.S. Was never trying to spam you.

      • To be fair I would like to apologize for using the word ‘spam’. I think it has negative connotations in internet lingo but I am e-tarded so I didn’t really know the right word. Anyway I was a bit harsh and that’s not cool.

        I had never read your blog before you left a link to it the other day. I had seen links to it on other industry blogs and of course on the Top 60 Restaurant Blogs On The Internet (congrats btw) but I had never sat down and read it. When I DID, I guess you can say I was a bit shocked at the vitriol. I get it that there are plenty of server blogs out there that do plenty of bitching from a server’s point of view and that you speak from the point of view of a banquet manager. Your generalizations of wait staff just rubbed me the wrong way I guess. Maybe we can still be friends, though (we are supposedly on the same team after all), but you have to understand that there is way too much hostility towards those of us in the hospitality business. Let’s change that.

        P.S. You HAVE a real job, imho.

  3. Dude, ya know how ppl on the internet always go “lol” all the time when really they just smiled a little at something they thought was kind of amusing? I REALLY DID lol when I read this!

  4. I DID get the Enola Gay reference, which just means I’m old and remember the time when they actually taught History in school.

    There is a reason to screen acts prior to letting people on stage. Remember the Gong Show? Even they had stuff they couldn’t let on TV.

    • Yeah hindsight is supposed to be 20/20 but I bet I’d let that happen again just to have the story. Good times, good times.

      Glad you got the reference. I’m not that surprised though. Judging from your comments you seem pretty intelligent.

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