Fat Hess Does Stand-Up

So I had this crazy dream last night that Hess was doing stand-up comedy at Fergie's Pub on Sansom St. Now normally I would have awoke this morning with my usual hangover and stale beer breath and just chalked this weird dream sequence up to some sour beer, but since we've started this blog it seems anything is possible. So in reality, Hess really did stand-up last night and even more impressive is the fact that he actually did really well. He did not get booed off the stage, which is always a good start, and had enough composure and material to finish out the 15 min slot he was provided and he did it with a comfortable flow. And the jokes were funny, another kinda big element I think.

I cannot go into his actual performance because that will just ruin it for everyone who hasn't seen it yet, but it's dirty, immature and funny so it should work for most audiences. And if you know Hess (which our only two readers do) you need only use your imagination. Instead, I performed the role of observer seated at the back of the room. I was unaware when we started this web page thing that Hess would consistently be opting for the physical challenge. He has already been whooped by a trained MMA pro and flung himself in front a live studio audience for shits and giggles. Since I must ultimately do my part, I will do what I was born to do and swim the Delaware River this summer (date TBD). But for now I am simply an observer.

First off, let me state for the record that this is one challenge I could never go through with. I am deathly afraid of public speaking and even the thought of Hess going up there made me nervous. I couldn't even stay composed for book reports in jr. high. My voice would crack, I would stutter, my hands would shake and I would make virtually no eye contact. Fucking shit was not good. So I already gave credit where it was due just for Hess to get up there. We got to the bar shortly before nine and headed upstairs to the second floor. There was about six or seven tables upstairs with a small stage set in the corner of the room and a small six stool bar in the opposite corner. We took our place at one of the tables in the back of the room and waited for the first performers to go on.

As we glanced over the crowd we both immediately realized this was probably not the best environment for crude jokes. We were the only people in the small crowd of twenty or so that did not have long hair, dreadlocks, fluffy sideburns, weird oval glasses, too many piercings, or silly hats that would even look ridiculous on Prince. Yup, we were surrounded by hippies, yuppies, and homos. The first act took the stage and began their set and only solidified the uneasy feeling of impending rejection. It was a jazz band composed of three young black men, one on the drums, one on the bass, and the other vocals and keyboard. Shit. Hess stood in the back of the room with a classic deer in the headlights look on his face. He already told us all that he was extremely nervous but till this point had not really shown many physical signs. He now was standing quietly in the corner with a look of fear and possibly regret in his eyes. He was drunk but at the moment had no drink in his hand, which is a sight I have not seen in a long time. He must have been really nervous if he stopped drinking. His adams apple had swollen to the size of a grapefruit and was beginning to bob up and down like a fishing lure with a small mouth bass on the other end of it. And to make matters worse, the band was actually really good. All the weirdos in the crowd were bobbing their heads, swaying with the rhythm. This crowd was obviously used to quality performances. I was beginning to overhear some of the conversation in the room. I heard words like "righteousness man", "peace and love", "let me get two hoegarrdens with extra fruit please". Shit! This was not good. You could cut the fear in the room with a knife. The smell alone was intoxicating. I had to go to the bathroom just to get out of the room for a minute. That bathroom by the way was one of the creepiest places on Earth, about the size of a broom closet, dimly lit, broken window patched with a board of wood, perfect for some fag out there to sneak in behind me and get his rape on.

Apparently we may have been more nervous than Hess because he got up there and killed it. Very impressive Hess, especially for a first time. I think we all prepared for the worst too. Public humiliation, a room full of crickets, Hess knocks the mic stand over as he runs from the room sobbing. That would have been awkward. And then how do we, his friends, react to the situation? "I guess we'll take the check" I say to the bartender from across the sad and quiet room. When this blog site inevitably fails maybe we should concentrate on writing you some material and get you on a circuit. I could be your scumbag manager, wear a lot of guido suits and get myself some gold rings, much like your Jerry McGuire but much sleazier. Anyway, for those of you who haven't seen the act Hess has no reason not to do it again so get in touch with him for future dates. Good stuff Hess.

- Bows