the one with an origin story.

July 18, 2011

The fact that the wifebot was in a show recently meant that I was at a Theatre a lot over the last three weeks. This is something I’ll rarely complain about. I love the vibe, passion and energy that flow freely at a theatre when a show is up. Strangely the audience was usually made up of older adults.

(Strange in that it wasn’t the traditional plays being performed.)

I rarely miss a show of hers and this time was no different. I was at every single performance even the preview show. This means a lot of time around actors and directors, which for me is always a little strange. I dig them; it just always feels a little weird.

This also (generally) means I’m going to field the “you’re a playwright?” or “what are you writing over there?” questions. You can throw in the paranoia that I’m writing what they are saying or writing about them.

Now I’ve been known to steal conversations and clearly there is overheard Ohio but come on people. Not everything is about you. One night I was talking to an actor and they asked why I didn’t submit to the fest.

(And that is a story of my idiotic messing up of the deadline.)

As I talked over my glass of complimentary wine a dude who had been eyeing me as I wrote made his way to where I was sitting. As I returned from the wine table/my conversation he asked if I was going to be sitting there again. I told him he could have that seat as I was gonna walk around a bit.

He frowned and said “I was hoping you’d have a seat with me. I’d like to ask you some things.”

Jimi: Fuck that shit can’t you see I was working on some writing?

Or

Jimi: Sure why not.

I sat. He peered at me.

Him: I heard you’re a playwright.
Me: yeah.
Him: How does one go about becoming a playwright?
Me: Write plays? I mean I found my passion there and see things on the stage now.

The conversation went on from there. Mostly about how, what and why I write plays. He asked if I could talk about the play I was working on with him.

You may or may not know that the play I’m working on is a struggling playwright (ha ha) who gets dumped, fired, and rejected on the same day. He gets drunk and wants a simpler time. He remembers (and longs for) the time fondly when he was young and had an imaginary friend. His friend’s name is Percy T. Whale and yes he is a walking talking whale. He wishes for him and he returns. The problem? Percy is a drunk, annoying jerk who only causes trouble.

So I tell him this and he starts to get into it. He‘s asking questions and throwing out suggestions. He asks if I’ve considered letting someone writing a scene or two for me.

(Uhm?)

As the conversation continues it seems more and more like he’s hoping I’ll ask him to collaborate with me. Luckily Lindsay came and I was saved. The next week an older lady heard I’d seen every show—I help out the theatre doing whatever I can—and asked me why. When she found out that my wife is an actress and I’m a playwright she began asking questions.

I talked all the while hoping she’d ask me how I became a playwright.

Origin of a playwright:

When I was twelve I hated reading and loved math. I wanted to grow up and do something in the math field. One day while walking around and solving math problems in my head I came across a dog. I went to pet it and it bit my arm. I passed out.

When I woke up I was in the hospital and the doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I had a fever and just started writing and writing plays. I wrote until the fever went down and I’ve been a playwright ever since.

She didn’t ask but that will be what I tell the next person.

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the one with April’s overheard

June 3, 2011

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Then there was the time I hadn’t blogged in about a week and tried to come up with an easy post. Yep kids always try to take the easy way out. It was this in mind I whipped up the best of Overheard Ohio for May. It wasn’t long before I realized I didn’t do one for April. Hooray two easy breezy posts. So May will wait (till next week probably) while I present to you the best of April:

(In no particular order.)

“I don’t trust him he never once looked at my tits and I had some nice cleavage going on.” –woman in lobby Downtown.

“This fucking dog hasn’t got me one fucking chick.”–Guy to another guy while walking a dog.

“Guy has been accused of rape 3 times. I mean I’m not saying I’m ‘rape free,’ but damn.”

“Treat that drain like you would your woman. Get at it!”-Plumber one to plumber 2

“Hey girl you wanna come sit on this? I ain’t got a home but I be getting women off all da time.” –drunk dirty homeless looking guy

“I gave bobby a hand job at the party so he’d pee in Mike’s book-bag.” –Girl outside of the UC.

And the winner for not funny and really sad award:

“aint you get pregnant from suckin dick?” girl in sex ed class.


The one with a lady intruder

March 18, 2011

St. Patrick’s Day.

Not like I need an excuse to drink but any reason to get together with friends and be around Cleveland is good enough for me. This year the 216 was beautiful. The sun was shining. The temperature was nicely in the 60’s. There was the parade. Downtown was filled with people. I was with good friends. I got fondled on the bus—

Wait what?

You read that right. We decided the best way to tackle getting to the parade was the RTA. Of course we weren’t the only ones to think of this—nor did we think we were. We boarded the first bus. It was a tight fit.

(Understatement.)

The middle doors opened and there was just one mass of arms, legs everywhere. The front was better and we at least were able to walk in without pushing people. This wouldn’t be the case with other passengers and other buses.

One stop (maybe 2?) people looking to get on included 2 people in wheelchairs. The whole front was filled. Those in the seats where the wheelchairs would need to get up. They did so with no fuss. Those of us in the front got off the bus so the driver would have room to work. As we waited we decided it might be best to catch the next bus.

And then that bus came and it was way worse. We managed to get on without pushing or hitting or making too many uncomfortable. The next stops people didn’t just pile on, they torpedoed their way on. These new riders shoved bodies every which way to get on. They of course than proceeded to complain the rest of the way that it was too packed.

We were crushed against everyone. It slowly began to get hot and stinky. Somewhere along the way a hand shot out from the crowd and fondled me. This hand didn’t just grab my chest but rubbed it before vanishing.

I won’t spend time on the parade. Just a brief list:

Floats.
Old people waving.
Old people not waving.
Kids.
Kids looking bored.
Dogs.
Bands.
Idiots in the crowd.
Drunk girl needing two people to help her walk at 4pm.
Baby getting beer spilled on it.

We did make a stop at Erie Island Coffee Co. over on East 4th. It was my first time there. I was thoroughly amused how strict they were about making sure you only used the restroom after purchasing something. I get why. I do. I don’t even have a problem with the thought (especially on a day where so many people would be out there) but still thought it was funny. They were barking it at anyone who even seemed remotely to be headed that way.

I got a chai frappe and it was delicious.

Back on the bus—this time a bit less packed. We made our way to Parnell’s Pub, because there really is nowhere else you should celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. I mean you should go there year round but they are authentic Irish. Good times as always.

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After I got a real nice buzz (bordering on nicely drunk) this happened:

I walked on over to the men’s room and opened it to find a very short haired woman wiping her hands. I said “oh” and closed the door. In my head I was thinking damn am I so drunk that I just tried to go in the ladies room? They are directly opposite from one another. As I contemplated this she opened the door.

Intruder: No you were right this is the men’s room.
Me (said with a curious ah ha tone): You’re a (came out more Youra) woman, woman.
Intruder: Yeah. I just used the men’s room—
Me: A woman!
Intruder: Oh and I kinda stopped up the toilet so I hope you don’t have to sit down.
Me: Because youra woman.

She leaves and I enter. I of course look down at the toilet before heading over to the urinal. The water was swirling closer to the edge and what was floating in there but a tampon.

Me (to the empty room in a Seinfeld voice): Woman!


The one with January top Overheard

February 18, 2011

Don’t forget about @overheardohio on twitter. So without further delay here is the top ten sent into Overheard Ohio:

10. “I’ve been sitting at the computer so long my ass hurts & I think I have carpe diem in my wrists” – Girl at Speedway.

9. “You shouldn’t draw pictures of men sleeping on sofas.”–Semi-hipster dude at Fatheads to his buds.

8. “This Martin Luther King guy was the man huh mom?”–young kid to his mom.

7. “Any black girls lost their weave?Is there a lost and found, weave is expensive” guy at Waffle House.

6. “We can at least agree that the homeless have it better in terms of ability to pee wherever they want,right?”

5. “I can’t wait till spring so I can let this big ass hang all out!”–girl with big booty at the bus stop

4. “You need to stop staring at that young ladies chest & pay attention to what I have…to teach you.” Tutor to kid at Beachwood mall

3. “Hey they is dying in Iraq for my right to have a fucking ice cream cone. I put it up there. Count them
pennies!”

2. “What am I doing? I’m walking her dumb dog in the fucking cold. Why? Have you seen her tits?”—Guy walking dog.

1. “You peed on a dude because he thought that was sexy and you’re calling me crazy?” –guy on phone.


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