Bad Routing

I’m writing from Chicago Midway, en route back to Boston after a show in Wisconsin. Unfortunately, it was a one-off performance, which means we traveled roughly 2,522
miles for every hour of comedy.

The only thing less desirable than a one-off show is a daytime show. This was both. To add insult to injury, upon arrival we were chastised by an art teacher.

Her: Where are you coming from?
Us: Boston.
Her: Where are you going to?
Us: (sheepishly) Boston.
Her: Don’t you understand how block booking works?
Us: Yes.

But sometimes that’s just how the schedule crumbles. Despite the imperfect circumstances, our brief experience at the college was still a rich one. We were surprised to find a display of student drawings about the graphic novel “Maus.” Speaking about the professor who created the project, our host said: “Oh yeah, he’s really into the holocaust.”

The “theater” (cafeteria) where we performed was called the Marauder’s Cove – a fitting name for a landlocked technical college’s dining hall. In the serving area hung a sign proclaiming: “Taco must be able to be taco without a fork, or else it will be taco salad.” Apparently, people try to make off with more taco than they pay for. I guess they’re the “marauders.”

When I asked the cook what the best thing there was, he said “the girls.” When I asked him what the best thing that he cooked was, he said “nothing.”