By sheerest luck of the draw, I was introduced at Sunday’s open mic by my friend Devin, the comic who hired me at my new job and is therefore also my supervisor. So when he introduced me as his bitch, I took the mic and made a comment about my boss being an asshole. I didn’t mean it, but it got a laugh and that’s what matters. As he was leaving the stage he yelled “I’ll see you at work on Monday” and I said that I’d be calling in sick. Again, only joking.
But then Monday came around… and I got sick as balls. It got worse throughout the day, and by Tuesday I could barely stand up at work; when Wednesday rolled around I had to genuinely call in sick. Is my stupid joke to blame? Of course it is. Devin apparently controls not just my employment but also my immune system.
I’m pretty sure this is just the common flu, although it could very well be swine flu—or as one Seattle comic calls it, pig AIDS1. How would I know the difference? Would I start oinking? Would my haunches start to look delicious?
While the pig AIDS is keeping me away from the open mics this week, there is a silver lining: I’ve currently got that deep throaty sick-voice that always feels about 20% sexier. Some girls are about to get some gratuitous random phone calls this week.
- Whose joke is this? It’s funny stuff, but I can’t for the life of me remember who does it. [↩]
Leave a Reply