Saturday, January 25, 2014

The Winning Ticket

I fell off writing, a little, but I'm getting back on the horse.  To help inspire me, I'm trying to engage my mother tongue in a variety of ways.  Most recently, I got free tickets on Goldstar to TMI Storytelling at La Pena Cultural Center last Thursday.  I invited my writer friend Special Peeps to join me.  We met in a writing class a couple of years ago, which spun off into a casual writing group, which disbanded a couple of months ago because I got tired of managing the logistics.  Once again, I felt like the tree with the roots trying to hold everything together, but that's for another story. Special Peeps and I hadn't seen each other for a while so we met at the cafe to catch up with our lives before the show began.  It was fantastic.  I enjoy her company so much, and love that we have writing in common.  Of course neither of us have been writing since the group disbanded, but that's totally ok.  There is no judgment, only mutual goals of furthering our craft and coping with our lives.

After a handmade empanada and a ice cold ginger beer, we shifted seats into the adjacent room to see what this storytelling was all about. I admit I had no idea what we had gotten ourselves into. I'm new to the storytelling scene, and have mild aspirations of being brave enough to share a story on stage.  Ok, my aspirations are more than mild - I want to get to that point, the point when I can, with confidence, just get up and tell people a really good story.  But alas, all in good time my dear.

The room was fairly small, intimate, but not like an AA group small.  The elevated stage was maybe the size of two queen beds, and the eclectic collection of chairs amounted to about 5 seats by 20 rows deep. There was just a microphone stand on stage. Waiting. Waiting for Gina Gold to get up and start the show.  She was a great host, comedian, and storyteller.  The theme of the night was "Go Hard or Go Home." She warmed us up with an emotional roller coaster of a story about her pregnancy, when she was hallucinating from the nausea medicine and running from invisible Nazi's. I couldn't quite tell how much was fact verses fiction, or embellishment, but it doesn't really matter... that's the beauty of a good story.

The next couple of storytellers were ok, but not as good as Gina Gold.  One was downright bad, I think he was drunk or something, and the other was just not that inspirational.  By the third one, the energy had picked up, and he had the crowd laughing, empathizing, engaged.  On this high note, Gina broke for intermission and the raffle.  When I'd checked us in, I was handed two tickets, which I had given the Special Peeps for safekeeping while I munched on the empanada. We'd forgotten about them, but she dug into her jacket pocket to unveil the raffle numbers. "199775!" Nope, not us.  A younger man worked his way through the cheering crowd to claim his prize. "199738!" Special Peeps and I peered down at the two red tickets, still stuck together from the giant ticket roll.  O.M.G. that's us! We looked at each other, and then back at the tickets, and then back at each other. "Do you?" "No, you." I popped up from my chair. "I won!" I shouted with glee. I never win. Other people always win.  I can't even remember a time in my life that I had the winning ticket. Like Tigger, I bounced with delight onto the stage.  Gina Gold gave me a big smile and walked over to the box of goodies.  "And here's what you won! A dildo!" A large, pearl-colored dildo, with a bullet vibrator insert. And by large I mean, the size of a baby's arm large. I grab my prize, wave the firm silicone shaft it in the air at the cheering crowd, and grin my bright red cheeks from ear to ear. Go Hard or Go Home... I think I'm going to like the storytelling circuit!