Front Row Seats are Not My Thang

Last night, I experienced one of my worst nightmares. I had to sit in the front row of a comedy club.

It happened to me once in college. I was a shy 20-something fat girl and the comedian kept making fun of my umbrella.  He referred to it as an elephant's diaphragm.  I was mortified.

Since then I only go to comedy shows if I genuinely love the comedian and I absolutely adore comedian John Heffron. I think he's hilarious. I watched him on Last Comic Standing many years ago and I've seen him do stand-up twice.

When I found out he was going to be at the Columbus Funny Bone this past weekend, I was pumped.  We opted for the 9:45 p.m. show last night (the other option was 11:30 p.m. on Saturday.)

When the waitress sat us in our front-row seats, I was horrified.  And although I laughed plenty, I was so worried about drawing attention to myself, I was on guard for the whole show.

I also learned that my husband doubts my funniness gauge.  We ran into two of our friends leaving the 7:30 show.  I asked how the show was and they said it was hilarious.

A few minutes later, my husband says, "Well if Angela says it's hilarious, I know it's going to be good."  I stared at him and said, "I told you it's going to be good and I'm your wife.  Shouldn't you trust my opinion?"

He thinks about it for a second and says, "You thought the Chipmunks movie was funny."

I'm sorry, but I stand by that one.  The first Chipmunks movie was hilarious.  (The second one, not so much.)