Guess what I did this weekend?
I went to see Eddie Izzard, live on his Stripped tour. Oh, it was divine, thanks for asking.
I am not a big “woo”er. I’m not talking about wooing as in courtship. I am talking about it as in, when I go to shows, or out dancing, or any other place where there is a lot of “wooooooooo!” or “wooo-hoooo!” going on, I am not participating in the woo. As a matter of fact, I often wonder what the heck wooing is. Where does this sound come from? Is it primal? Were there cave people who, after killing a beast of some sort that would feed their families for a month, welcomed the hunters back by saying “wooooo-hooooo!”? Somehow I doubt it. Where does this sound come into human history? What is the etymology of the word wooo? If it is indeed some sort of behavioral evolution thing, then I haven’t evolved that far yet.
Or at least, I hadn’t. Until this weekend. Where I went apeshit for Eddie Izzard and woooo-hooooo’d myself hoarse. I even did that thing where you clap for someone, with your arms up in the air. I also feel like that behavior is a little bit dipshitty. But I did it. I felt it. I can admit that.
It was an awesome show, people. Awesome. If he is coming to your town, GO. Please. You will thank me. Although the tickets are probably sold out and the only way to get any is to sign away your first born (which is basically what I did), it is worth it. If it can make me “wooo-hooo!” then you know it has to be something special.
Aside from the fact that the show was truly great, and I laughed until I wanted to puke (always nice), and we had seats right in front where I could see everything right up to the eyeliner on his face, there was a little bit of side entertainment for me.
I was sitting next to a couple who were on a date from hell.
Now, I don’t mean to imply that I was getting entertained by someone else’s awful evening. Entertained is the wrong word. I was intrigued by it. It made me realize that although I think I have had some bad dates in my life, I really haven’t. Being a little bored by your date or ordering a bad meal or getting a little lost on a hike together or something is small potatoes, really. Anyway, here’s what happened.
We got there about 15 minutes early and found our seats. When the couple next to us arrived, they sat down, both whipped out their Blackberries, and started to play solitaire with themselves in silence. For 15 mintues. No talking, no acknowledging each other, nothing. Ok, I thought, maybe that’s just what they do. Maybe that is the equivalent of reading the Sunday paper together in silence. Nordic Boy and I are comfortable with silence. Maybe not in this type of venue, but to each his own, right?
Wrong. Then, the show started. When Izzard came out, everyone went nutty for a second. Cheering, clapping, standing up, stomping (and whoo-hooing) for a solid minute or two before he could even start. Sourpuss and Grumpypants stayed seated. As I sort of turned myself to sit back down, I glanced over, and they were glaring at each other. Like a STAREDOWN. What the hell is that? Then, when the show started, the woman, who was sitting next to me, sat there, her arms folded across her chest, and didn’t laugh once. Nothing. I don’t know about the dude, but I don’t think he was laughing either. I got into the show right away and sort of forgot about them, until about twenty minutes in, when Sourpuss (the dude) leans over and whispered something to Grumpypants. And she says in an irritated way (kind of loudly, like I thought maybe even Mr. Izzard heard it) “NO! GAWD!”
I thought they might actually start arguing right there, fifteen rows away from Eddie. They didn’t. Whew. (Whew is totally different that woo, by the way, and I am very familiar and adept at whewing). Then, about twenty minutes more after that, she grabbed her purse and stormed out. And I mean stormed. And, sitting up so close, it was extra noticable because she had a long way to storm to get out of there. About five minutes later, the dude stormed out after her. They didn’t come back.
I know, in the grand scheme of things, that’s not the worst date ever. But in my life, I can’t think of a time when I had a date where I was at an event with someone I wasn’t too gaga for where I didn’t just, at the very least, enjoy the event. I’m not saying that to point out that I think Sourpuss and Grumpypants should have sucked it up and tried to have fun. I have no idea what was going on in their lives and it may have been something terrible and legitimately staredown-worthy. I am just saying, I’ve never been on that date. It looked awful.
You know what? Even with that shit going on right next to me, it was still the best show ever. Seriously, you should go.