Kipworld

So, Tuesday night, I went to Uncommon Ground for storytelling. I hadn’t been in a while due to work, an improv show, and general stress. That’s about the last couple Tuesdays. Anyway, El and I took her mom there to see it and I figured since I’d be there, I might as well tell.

I got my story written the night before, as is par for the course for me. It was about me and my relationship with clothes and why I dress the way I do today. It was OK. I wrote it really quickly because I topped out on this story about me learning martial arts.

We were meeting El’s mom at 7, but traffic sucked a lot so we were a bit late. I dropped El off since my usual parking area was all taken and I started to circle around. What the heck? I couldn’t find anything, but worse yet, there were cops all over the place. I finally found a spot a couple blocks away (near where we took Rick for his birthday dinner the previous Thursday) and hoofed it over to the coffeehouse.

Got in, had to say hi to Jim (the organizer) and the other storytelling regulars, as I hadn’t been there in a month and a half. He introduced me to his new wife (married for 13 days, only). I pointed out El and her mom, sitting at their table. I went to sit with them. I was a bit antsy to tell since I usually come to storytelling alone.

Her mom had already ordered a few appetizers. I had a beer to calm my nerves a bit. I really didn’t think my story was that strong compared to some of the other ones I’ve done.

And then Jim sat down.

“Hey Kip’s family,” he said. He proceeded to embarrass me a bit and then he said, “Kip, you were asking if you might be able to go to the festival this year.”

I nodded. “Well,” he said, “it’s tough this year, since it’s an anniversary year and all.” I told him I understood.

“But, I was talking with some of the other folks who are usually here, and we wanted to know it you would like to be a featured teller here sometime in the fall.”

I needed more beer.

See, the way storytelling night works out is there is a featured teller who tells for about 10 minutes. Then there’s open mic for an hour and then a break then the featured teller tells for an hour. Open mic tellers get 8 minutes. I usually trim stories to fit into that time. And it’s so precious, I try not to waste a slot with something experimental, like an improv story or something.

My brain started swimming with possibilities. “Sure, ” I croaked. You could have beat me over the head with a plank to get the same effect. He went back to his table.

I’d been getting my nerves under control. Now they were back. I imagined going up with my crappy little clothes story and then Jim coming up to me saying, “Listen… about that slot, um, how about another year?”

The appetizers came. Enough to feed armies. I regretted ordering an entree.

The featured teller, Sue O’Halloran, told two folk tales about divides between people. My little wisp of clothes story seemed featherweight.

The emcee, Beth, introduced me. Told them that I was going to be a featured teller this fall. A part of me said, “Ha! Now they can’t take it back!”

Took the mic stand.

Gave a few shoutouts to the Northwestern people in the crowd.

And began to tell.

The story went well. They laughed at some stuff that I really didn’t expect, but I let it come. The near end was a bit rough, but I managed to stick the ending (which I purposely let a bit abrupt).

The rest of the night passed in a blur. I went back to the table and sat next to El so I could see the rest of the show. I was worried that the night would be a bit long for El and her mom, but they really liked the stories, so yay with that.

I will admit that my brain was still zinging from the featured teller thing and so it was hard to pay attention. I had my usual weak knee feeling after telling that is usual (which is odd, since I thought stage fright was gone from my system after all those years of improv).

It’s funny, see, because, I usually write my stories the night before. How the heck am I going to come up with an hour’s worth of material?