Facing My Fear - One Bad Joke at a Time

So I’m  laying in bed on Moonlight Madness morn  checking my Facebook (yes it’s true, that was the most exciting thing I had to do in bed on a Friday morning) and I noticed I had a message from the owner of Sidestreet Cafe  asking if I would consider introducing the comedian Krazy Jake who would be performing at the café that very evening. 



This Damn Fool let me use the mic

My first thought was ‘Damn, if she had to Facebook me that means someone has painted over my phone number on the bathroom wall again.'  My second, and more panicky thought was ‘No freaking way.'   You see, I am absolutely terrified of speaking in public.  I know, there are probably a few of you rolling your eyes and thinking ‘yeah right, Deb.  I ran into you at Hannaford before Thanksgiving and my frozen Butterball  was thawed and percolating salmonella before you quit flapping your yap long enough for me to make a break for the register.'   But really, whenever I have had to stand before a group of people, and make any kind of presentation,  the room spins, my legs wobble, and I just melt down.  

I’ve been this way since grade school when I figured out how to make my nose bleed on cue to get out of giving an oral book report.  I purposely tanked my grades and became an underachiever in high school so I wouldn’t have to give the valedictory speech.  OK, may that is not completely true, but it helps my mom to think that’s why I wasn’t  a Cheerleading National Honor Society Future Homemaker of America.  On my wedding day, I did actually say I do, but that was when the minister person noticed that my face was whiter than my dress (the white dress made Gram happy, don’t  judge me) and asked if I wanted to sit down.   

While I was flattered Jeni thought of me, I instantly told myself there I just could not do it.  But then I read the rest of her message in which she offered to sweeten the deal with a couple of martinis.  And that got me to thinking, as any offer of free cocktails usually does.   Perhaps a little liquid courage might help me get over this fear.    I messaged her back with a hearty ‘what the hell’. 

I spent a good part of the work day (note to my boss lady who reads my blog – this part is just for comic relief, I was hopelessly devoted to the institute all day) working on my introduction.  It should be funny,  slightly snarky,  but not crude.  And short, no need to flirt with disaster the first time I try to get over this fear.    By the end of the work day I had a nice little paragraph I was pleased with, so I spent the drive home practicing my delivery.   When I got home I set about the primping and fluffing ritual and while the first coat of wrinkle spackle dried, I checked Facebook and saw Sidestreet had a post on about Krazy Jake’s upcoming performance.  And he would be introduced by an island celebrity.  My immediate reaction was ‘phew, Kitten,  you dodged that public speaking bullet. '  This was immediately followed by a more urgent thought.  Dang, I spent all day working on a little bit, practicing it, memorizing it, prettying up.  And they have dumped me for someone else.  I had better still get a martini. 

 I stopped by Sidestreet to negotiate for at least one consolation prize martini. Imagine my surprise when I found out that I was what they consider an island celebrity.  Apparently once the last cruise ship steams out of sight, standards drop dramatically here on the rock.  Of course I could have figured out I was the island celebrity if I had just read the rest of the   post – Island celebrity who probably does not have a date on Friday night.  It’s kind of in keeping with the theme I started Friday morning. 

 

 



Doesn't this look like a ...?
 

I had a nice backstage visit with Krazy (whom I’ve known since he was just Crazy), and when the time came, I boldly stepped to the microphone,   refrained from mentioning it’s rather phallic form,  lest there be children in the audience (sometimes the adult filter does kick in ) and talked.  Although I had no idea how close my presentation was to what I had practiced in the car, the room didn’t spin.

 

It was kinda fun, and although I have no plans to pursue a career as a standup comedian, I stood up to my fear.  I shall proudly take a big marker and cross that off my to-do list.  Right after I use that big marker to refresh my contact information on the bathroom wall at  Sidestreet.