Open mic night

I toyed with going to an open mic night.  I even wrote a comedy routine including animation, but chickened out. 

Here it is.  Remember to laugh when you see (pause).

Okay, let’s get 2 (hold up two fingers) things out of the way.  First (one finger), I have short term memory loss (point to forehead), and two, (pause and point to second finger), and (stammer) did I mention I have short term memory loss? (pause)

Alzheimer’s runs in my family.  My mom and both grandparents had it.  No wonder I have a problem with self esteem.  (look downtrodden)  I’ve been forgotten by nearly every significant person in my life.  (pause)

No one listens to me.  Mainly, my husband.  He’s ignored me so much that now I can get away with saying, “I told you so,” even when I didn’t.  (pause)

I’ll say “Do you want to go out and eat?”  And he’ll say nothing.  Just sit there.  Then about three minutes later, he’ll suggest, “Wanna go out to eat?”  (pause)  I swear I’ve heard that somewhere before.

One day he was upstairs (move fingers like walking up the stairs).  In his own personal retreat in our bedroom.  When he married me, I had four teenagers (4 fingers in your face) and he had (wave index finger back and forth and shake head “no”) no children.  He’d never been married.  Some of you might that that’s a wise man.  (pause)  Then it all changed in the time it took to say, “I do.” 

He found out quickly he needed his space.  Well, there he was in the twilight, TV wasn’t on and he was just sitting in his recliner, eyes open.  (look up blankly)  “What ya thinking about?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said.  (look up blankly again)

“Come on, what ya thinking?”  (motion cupped fingers in a coaxing manner)  I thought he was kidding.

“Nothing.  Just sitting here,” he said again.  (huh look)

“Really?  You mean it’s just black space up there?” 

He nodded.  “That’s about it.”  (look up blankly again)

I didn’t even know that was humanly possible.  (huh look)

That’s when I discovered he’ll never get me.  (sigh)  Twenty years later and he still treats me with chocolates.  (huh look)  “Remember it’s you that likes chocolate, not me.”

“Oh, yeah.”  (he’s been caught look)

We don’t get each other because we think differently.  I’m a deductive thinker and he’s an inductive thinker.  That is when he’s not in weekend mode.  On the Sabbath, his brain rests.

I’m more direct.  I’ll say, “Can you take your plate to the kitchen?”  (point)

He’ll say, “Well, lookie here.  Someone left their dish in the family room.  Who do you think that could be?”  And I’m the only one home.  (pause)