Tickling My Fancy

You know what makes for a great Friday?

Unexpected props from my editor for chasing all over the western hemisphere to get musician interviews.

A totally unexpected gift of bacon and the best pork chops ever from my favorite farm.

You know how I reward myself? By starting my evening at 4:45 by picking up Moira for happy hour.

She chose Heritage, a place I enjoy less every time I'm there.

Sure, the pork fries are tasty but the chicken liver mousse with beet gelee was so-so and the room became so stupidly busy within an hour that it was like being in a Jersey Italian restaurant, all loud voices and no room to move.

But the company was stellar and since we hadn't met up in a month, we made the best of it, swapping tales of indulgences on the deck, abrupt departures and Pigeon Forge.

Favorite quote: "Can I have some of that?"

The girl sitting next to us couldn't resist sharing what she'd just been texted from a friend who works at a vet.

A Pomeranian ate an entire box of tampons.

Too much information, but thanks for sharing, sweetie.

Moira had a curfew because she was part of a comedy show tonight and, coincidentally, I was also off for some comedy.

Mine was courtesy of Richmond Comedy Coalition (motto: live comedy, dead serious) at their spanking new theater on Broad Street, right here in lovely downtown Jackson Ward.

A short walk and I was there, taking crap from the ticket taker. All in good fun, of course.

Tonight's show was Richmond Famous and the victim was my former co-worker and long-time friend, Andrew, author of the RVA Playlist blog.

One friend told me Andrew had recorded four hours and 39 minutes of music for tonight.

Just so you know, the show runs an hour and a half. But it's a perfect example of what a music geek he is.

As I told friends I saw at the show, I wouldn't have missed seeing Andrew's life made fun of for anything.

The space looked great with a long narrow stage and three rows of chairs, but the best part were the chandeliers.

Three bentwood chairs had been screwed together and hung upside down around globe light bulbs, making for comedic fixtures.

Host Dave began by shaking the imaginary hands of the non-existent people in the front row and then demanded that the people in the second row move up.

According to him, Andrew had it in his rider that the front row had to be filled, along with a request for green M & Ms.

Andrew got up and explained his blog to people who didn't know about it, mentioning his frustration with shows that don't start on time.

That's when I became that heckler and shouted out, "You mean like this one?"

Somebody had to do it.

Then it was his turn to tell a story (to give material to the RCC improv troupe to riff on) about accompanying a band to NYC where they played to four people, got drunk and told off their friends when they finally showed up too late and then discovered their tour van had been broken into.

A nightmare, in other words.

Then RCC was off and running with a bit about a poet doing a reading from his book, The Bitch-Whore of Richmond, about his breakup.

Unfortunately, his ex-girlfriend, fingers snapping, was the only one who showed up for the reading.

Hysterical.

Another bit was about a mother and son looking to buy a van, which turned out to the former touring van of the band Cape Cods and Ends.

Come on, how clever is that?

There was an argument at the pearly gates about analog versus digital with St. Peter yelling, "Back in my day, we used to carry symphonies around in our pockets!"

Andrew began his second story about the band Passenger by calling me out, saying, "Karen, you've already heard this story."

I had, but it was a funny one about his obnoxious behavior as an uber-fan at their show.

Their were bits about serial suiciders, an adopti-marriage and naked people in spas before it was all over.

The last piece began, not with another of Andrew's stories, but with his iPod and he apologized in advance for some of his song choices.

Things began with a couple facing off to get ready for the prom (a make-up off) and ended back in that tour van with the supposed lead singer of Cape Cods and Ends smoking pot listening to an 8-track with the kid and the car salesman.

You know, we're damn lucky to have such a talented improv group doing this stuff every week.

Funny stuff and all at Andrew's expense, which made it even more hilarious.

The only thing missing was the Plushgun story with the soccer Moms and glow sticks, but maybe I didn't want him to tell a story that involved me anyway.

After the show I mingled for a while, talking to a favorite handsome musician who admitted to eating pot cakes in Amsterdam and threatened to start Facebooking every time he saw me.

I love that idea.

"I'll say you were wearing black because you're always wearing some black, except maybe in June," he nonsensically promised.

I told him I had to get going so I could call a friend and find out where to meet him, leading to his incredulous realization that I don't have a cell phone.

Hey, I hear the executive director of the symphony doesn't have one, either, so what's the big deal?

Back home, I found a message from Holmes letting me know he was listening to Big Star in the car and he wanted me to know that.

A return call provided his coordinates (Amour) so I made tracks for Carytown and dessert.

Holmes and Beloved were still eating dinner (the seafood special of frog legs and pork belly looking as fabulous as Holmes said it tasted) so I ordered Rose and heard about their state fair quandary.

He wants to go while she hasn't been since she was a child and has no interest.

Even the racing pigs couldn't entice her. I say don't knock 'em till you've tried 'em (and I have).

For dessert, I had one of tonight's specials, dark cherry, walnut and apple bread pudding with vanilla bean ice cream, an appropriate sweet given the sudden arrival of Fall.

Despite Holmes giving me a hard time about practically everything tonight - not having a cell phone, not watching TV, not eating at chains- we made tentative plans for the three of us to spend a day at Merroir soon, while the weather is so perfect for riverside wining and dining.

We'll probably listen to Big Star on the way there...but only because we don't have any Cape Cods and Ends.