“Macy,” said Petra, standing up and wandering over to me. “This is fucking awesome. This is what we’ve both wanted. And here you are, totally doing it.”
“I know,” I sighed.
“Your Dad’s out there in the audience,” she said. “And you know your Mom would be so proud of you if she were still here.”
“I know,” I groaned even louder.
“You’ve got some powerful people behind you,” she continued. “Amy Schneider is fucking in your corner. Amy Schneider. Maybe you’ll even end up on her sketch comedy show.”
“So what are you trying to say?” I said, looking over to her and giving her an innocent but fiery face.
“Oh God!” she said, approaching me now. Petra dropped her hand to my back, bare from how the dress hung, and gave me a slow, tender caress. “I’m trying to say that you’re here. You’ve arrived. Shit is going to be irrevocably changed after this.”
“Provided I do a good job,” I countered.
“You’re going to do a good job,” she said with authority. “I mean, my jokes can’t fail.”
“Yeah, it’s mine we have to worry about.”
“C’mon Macy,” she said. “This is going to be incredible.”
“I know,” I said finally, feeling slightly embarrassed, looking down with a small grin on my lips. “I like this. I like what’s happening,” I admitted. I knew that Petra knew what I was talking about. “It’s funny,” I went on. “Once you give up the stuff you know is bad for you — in my case that’s too much boozing and too much sleeping around with no good chicks — once you start treating yourself a little bit better, the world seems to open up.”
“How very after-school special of you,” said Petra sweetly with a teasing expression.
“I’m trying to be real with you!” I protested, giving her a smack.
“I know, I know!” she said, laughing now. “I’m happy that this is unfolding like it is.”
Just then the door to the green room popped up and one of the Comedy Junction production assistants stuck his head in.
“Macy,” he said, hugging a clipboard against his body. “Samantha is wrapping up out there and we’re just about ready for you. Feeling good?”
“Feeling funny!” I corrected. I admit, I was so incredibly nervous in that moment but I knew there was no turning back. This was the kind of thing I lived for. I loved comedy, I loved making people laugh, and this stage was going to propel me into the public mind. People were going to know who Macy Maxwell was after this and while I knew my career hinged on doing a great show, I also knew that I had some hilarious material to back up my ego. I had Petra waiting in the wings for me, my loving father sitting front row. I had all my friends back in Chicago rooting for me. I mean, shit just works out if you let it, if you stop fighting against it. The universe wants us to be happy, to be fulfilled, but we fight so hard against it because… why? We’re trying to do what we think we’re supposed to do, or what society wants us to do? I don’t know.
If my mother hadn’t died, I wouldn’t be here right now. Part of that is because I got that trust fund from the lawsuit, I can admit that. That’s a bit of an embarrassing cross I’d have to bear for a while. But my Mom’s death showed me how fragile all this is. I could have been pushing papers all over a desk in some Chicago skyscraper, dreaming of doing comedy, but too tired or too bored or too beaten down to even give it a go. I’m sure my personality would have done well at some advertising firm. I’d be drinking myself into oblivion, pretending I was having a fun time, but I’d be haunted by that very frightening ‘what if’ poltergeist. What if, what if, what if.
But instead I was living my dream. I was doing it. And I think you can, too. I think anybody can if they’re willing to make the sacrifices, to live a slightly different life than all the rest of the people. I don’t just mean people who want to be comedians either. You want to spend your working life in a garden? You can. You want to be a writer, a comedian, an artist? You can. You want to go live in a cabin in the woods and become a hermit? You can do that, too. It just takes courage, that’s all. And I’m grateful my mother gave me that courage. It defined me. That courage was something that would certainly come in handy as I climbed up on stage in front of a thousand people at the Regal Theatre. But really, it was all for my Mom. I just wanted to make her smile, wherever she was.
“All right, let’s go,” said the production assistant. He slipped back out of the door to give me a moment.
“You ready, Macy?” asked Petra with a grin.
“Totally,” I said. “Let’s do this.”
Petra and I threaded our hands into one each other’s and gracefully sashayed toward the door and toward my fate as an entertainer.
“Oh God,” I intoned into the microphone, standing there on stage with all those people laughing along with me. My set had been going great and even though I oozed confidence on the outside, on the inside I was totally melting with emotion and feeling like I could burst into tears at any moment. I had to get out of my head, though, I had to persist and deliver to these people the best jokes I could, I had to make my mark and show those television cameras just what Macy Maxwell was made of. “The life of a small-chested woman is hell,” I said.
Raising my free hand, I gave one of my boobs a squeeze.
“Do you know how hard it is to find a comfortable bra without all that padding?” I went on. “I mean, I’m to the point where I should really just be wearing elastic headbands around my chest. That would be better than the options I’ve currently got.”
The crowd laughed. I think they just liked seeing me touch my tit on stage.
“And let me dispel any myths right now,” I said, doing sort of a karate chop in the air. “Drawing a line in the sand here. You think it’s just men that like big breasted women?” I paused and looked around for effect, then slowly shook my head. “Nope. You’d be wrong. I had a girlfriend tell me once, Macy, if I wanted to date someone without a chest I wouldn’t be a lesbian.”
I smiled into the applause, into the laughter, and I even cracked a laugh myself.
“People can be so superficial,” I went on. “You know? But I can understand it a little bit. It’s the biological imperative. Yeah, even lesbian women feel it.” I strutted across the stage casually, building the tension of my joke, trying to keep an even pace, string the audience along. “I don’t have a remarkable chest, I don’t have a butt, I don’t have birthing hips, I mean… look at me. I’m like the poster girl for ‘not gonna grow a strong baby.’ And you just know how the girls I’ve dated feel… they’re like, uh, ‘I don’t want to carry the child.’ I mean, who wants to be the host for some dirty little parasite?”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” I said after the laughter. “Being a mother is a great thing, it’s a special thing and I always — always — applaud lesbian couples who choose to have and raise a child. I mean, am I right?” The crowd hooted and applauded, happily coming along with me and enjoying my act.
“I just know that, well, I’m not gonna ruin this tight little bod with a baby,” I said. “I’ll find some big-boobed lady with strong legs to take that charge. Oh God, I’m guilty of it too!”
As the audience laughed, I swapped the microphone into my other hand and made my way back toward the mic stand. I knew that my set was beginning to wrap up and I could feel the love from the audience. This was greater than I ever could have imagined. It felt so good to be so accepted. It made me indescribably happy. In fact, I felt so good it was almost as though I could even do another hour of stand up if they’d let me.
“It’s all a lie,” I casually admitted, slyly smiling. “Under this dress I’ve got the tightest girdle you’ve ever seen. I’ve already ruined my body with alcohol and partying. Burritos,” I said, lifting a finger up. “I love burritos. You’d be surprised and what modern spandex is capable of. I’m actually 6 foot, 250,” I said amid laughter. “Yeah, they’ve got height girdles now.”
“What
is with women and height issues?” I continued. “I dated this tall girl once, I mean, she was probably 6’2”. That’s over a full foot taller than little ol’ me. And she actually had the audacity to tell me that she had it rougher than me when it came to height. Really?!” I shook my head, cracked a smile, reveled in it. God, I loved the stage. I was born for this. “I asked her, babe, answer me this. As an adult have you ever mistakenly been given the kids menu at a restaurant? Have you?!”
They loved me. And I loved them.
“Not that I don’t love a good PB&J,” I admitted. “I mean, who doesn’t? But I at least want the option to order an adult portioned meal. No no… I’ll take the chicken tenders, you got me.” I mimed like I was handing a menu back to a waiter and grinned as the audience applauded.
As the laughter and applause from the joke slowly diminished, I felt a joy wash over me as I looked out into the crowd. I just couldn’t help it. I opened up.
“My show, everybody… woo!” They applauded for me and I grinned. “We’re all gonna be on TV! I just wanna say, Boston, you’ve really made me feel at home.” The crowd roared, obviously proud of their town. “I mean, I’m from Chicago and you’ve given me the kind of reaction my own hometown crowd gives. That’s to say, whether I’m making a joke about how weird my vagina looks or making fun of what a runt I am, you’re right there with me, confirming how terrible Macy Maxwell truly is.” They laughed and hooted louder.
“Oh man!” I said, bringing my hand to my mouth. “I’ve kept it mostly clean for TV and here I go saying ‘vagina.’ I can say that, right?” I said, looking around as though I were searching for support. “We’ll just overdub it,” I said, flipping my hand casually. “We’ll call it… vagoogoo. Right? Here, I’m just going to say it a couple of times for the cameras so we can pull the audio out later.” I searched out the various cameras and spoke slowly into them. “Vagoogoo. Vagoogoo.” The audience continued laughing.
“It’ll all be fixed in editing,” I said. “But I don’t think audio edits and camera tricks could fix my own vagoogoo,” I said, looking down to my crotch. “I mean, it’s turtles all the way down.” The audience laughed again and so did I. “I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore.”
“I’ll leave you with this one last thing,” I said, replacing the mic in the stand and straighten up my posture. “I think the most important ability you can have in life is to be able to laugh at yourself. I mean, that’s a given right? But the second most important ability you can have in life…” I said, grinning, looking around to the audience. “Is to be able to laugh at Macy Maxwell! Thanks everyone, you’ve been amazing!” I raised my arm high amid the applause. I had done it. It was over and although I knew that I could relax, I still felt completely abuzz inside, my heart racing, my breath escaping me. But I loved it. I loved the recognition.
I thanked the audience, I bowed, thanked them again and began my walk across the stage. I had made my debut. I was a changed woman.
Just off stage I saw Petra waiting for me. She was smiling so wide, applauding for me. I sped up into a jog and leapt at her, wrapping my arms and legs around her in a hug. The two of us laughed together and then we kissed. I don’t think I’d ever been happier in my life.
Things changed after my episode of the Funny Thirty aired on television. In a good way, obviously. My agent was calling more often, I was getting gigs booked, I was traveling. And Petra was always there by my side. Just as she had been for the last couple of years. If only I wasn’t so dumb to really see her back then. But I was thankful for her now. I was grateful that I’d woken up, grateful that my hard work and determination were paying off. Grateful for the new life that we were building together.
Petra and I sat together at O’Hare, waiting to board a plane to New York City for a meeting at the Comedy Junction offices and for a gig I had booked opening for Amy Schneider at the Cellar in the West Village. It was one of those things where you knew other famous comedians were going to be there, a kind of insider show that could really ingratiate you to the tastemakers. I was excited. Everything just kept getting better and better.
“Ugh, is it delayed?” said Petra, adjusting the frames on her face and looking off toward the flight schedule board.
“Looks like it,” I said, then paused. “Wanna go finger each other in the bathroom?”
“Yep,” she said casually. “Widen your stance. I’ve got fat fingers.”
I looked over to Petra and grinned. I squeezed her hand.
“Hey,” I said. “You’re happy with all this, right? I mean, happy coming around with me? You’re not really performing yourself anymore. You’re kinda like my entourage.”
“When you put it that way,” said Petra dryly.
“No, c’mon,” I said. “I’m serious. Is this, like, cool with you?”
“Seriously, Macy?” she said. “Uh, yeah. I’m getting paid to write jokes for you. This is a dream.”
“Cool,” I said with a smile. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t jealous or anything. I want this to work out. Professionally and… you know, romantically.”
“You’re gonna make me barf,” she said.
“Oh no!” I said. “It’s coming up!” I pretended like I was going to puke, holding my hand over my mouth, convulsing, leaning over to Petra.
“Get off me,” she said, giving me a light push and laughing.
She and I always had a blast together. That was important. That’s how you know things are really going to work out. If you can laugh with your partner, if you can crack stupid jokes that really don’t have any meaning beyond trying to make the other person laugh in the moment, you’ve got something good on your hands. I was happy that I’d found Petra, lounging there under my nose all along. I mean, it was obvious we did well together. And I could admit, her jokes made me a better comedian. Sometimes you just have to let other people into your heart, into your private little world, to really see how awesome life can be.
That’s all I wanted. I just wanted awesomeness. I just wanted fun and happiness. That’s all any of us want, right? Deep down, that’s why we do what we do. We just want to be happy. Well, making other people happy is what makes me the happiest. I’m an entertainer and I belong on stage. It’s hard work, putting yourself out there to be judged. Sometimes you bomb. Sometimes you make a mistake and a joke doesn’t land how you thought it would. But it’s all part of the process. Anyone who puts themselves out in the public eye has my respect. It’s stressful but it’s so totally worth it.
After a bit more waiting, we heard our flight called over the loud speaker. Petra and I looked at each other and smiled. There would be so many more delayed flights in our future. But I was so thrilled to be delayed with her. I could just sit in an airport forever with Petra by my side. Okay, maybe not. I mean, airports can be pretty damn boring. But you get what I’m trying to say. You understand where I’m going with this. Petra made me feel good, comforted, happy. She was my partner in crime. Partner in comedy. I hope you’re able to find someone as good in your own life because, let me tell you, the way she can work that tongue… kidding!
“Let’s do this,” said Petra, standing up. “You ready, Macy?” She reached down to me and I took her hands, allowing her to help pull me out of the seat.
“I’m ready for anything!” I said. I slipped my hands around Petra and the two of us stood there in a loving embrace. I was ready for anything. With Petra by my side, with her jokes in my mouth, I knew that we could go even further together. This was only the beginning. We had so much more to explore together and I was open to it. I was ready to make all my big dreams become our reality. I know Petra was ready too.
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Hotel Hollywood
A Lesbian Romance
Audra Durand is stuck. She has slowly come to the realization that life in her small town on the west coast of Michigan isn’t quite what she imagined for herself. And as she sits unfulfilled behind the reception desk of the Hotel Champlain, an old hotel on her town’s main street, she dreams of the places she could go… if only she could muster up the courage and overcome her fears. Life and love have been a struggle for Audra, and she has difficulty imagining a way out.
But her world is about to change when Hollywood comes to town. Thanks to some easy tax credits a big budget movie production sets up in Champlain, making Audra’s hotel their homebase. And with the movie comes young starlet Kelsie Kent, a beautiful, free-spirited, fun-loving girl who inspires Audra in every way. Kelsie represents the things Audra can’t see in herself, but as the girls grow closer and love begins to bloom, Audra’s fear and trepidation melt in Kelsie’s light.
Can Audra overcome the demons of both her past and present, open her heart, and give herself over to the freedom that Kelsie arouses? Or will she succumb to her fear of change, do nothing, and remain in her stagnant existence? Sometimes unexpected kismet can deliver what you need most at exactly the right time. You just need to open your eyes to see it.
Salacious Stand Up: A Funny Lesbian Romance by Nicolette Dane (2016-06-22) Page 17
