Breaking the Windy City: Part Duh

Everything is a struggle, lemme tell ya. It’s a good day if I can get through it without getting fired or into a fistfight. Apologies to Mr. Roboto for all the political digressions. Time to put away the Soap Box and get back into the pool at the Oakwood.

I’d say the highlight of Waterpolo was Girls vs. Boys. I had a Budweiser handicap, which prevented me from scoring. But you guys know that already from Part One. Or was it One and a half? Whatever. I was kind of sweet on Naomi of Wooly Mammoth fame, who plays the Nurse in PERICLES. She had to take out her contacts to swim. I offered her my beer goggles but alas she is married . . . sigh.

“After the party is the after-party,” which I was going to forgo in favor of Jesse J’s couch. But Prozac takes about a week or so to kick in so there was nothing to cut the alcohol turned sugar in my bloodstream. Next thing I know I have an empty beer case on my head in the sauna and I’m bleeding from my knees. Then I’m barefoot in the snow smoking cigarettes with the wardrobe supervisor. “I like big butts and I can not lie.”

I was also attacking Jesse’s new girlfriend and myself with a fork after which some old friend of Keira Naughton’s gave me a stern talking to. Irony’s not such a dead scene after all. Then we stole some of MC Kit Kitty’s Fancy Feast for Yvette who drunkenly knew her cat would be hungry when she got home. Bad Mommy, no cunniligus! What else? I looked though Jesse’s Hoochie’s purse for drugs or cigarettes. Instead I found her Driver’s License and learned we have the same birthday. Hey, we’re both turning 18 this month!!!

So I hate to burst your bubble Jeffy Jeff but that’s about it. I did masturbate but had one of those Ben-Stiller “Something About Mary” moments. Don’t really know where it all went. Sorry J. 🙁

Cut to the Steppenwolf parking Lot . . . I’m cracking three two-packs of Advil and a Red Bull. Terry Kinney, my boss on WAR, is asking me what time I went to bed and if I got enough sleep. Blacking-out counts, right? “Listen, if you’re going to wake me up at 7AM, I’m driving your ass to Normal.” Mr. Kinney had to speak at his old college to a bunch of aspiring actors. Blah blah blah . . .

We drove. I was still drunk but I was heavily caffeinated . . . or taurinated. Well the hell is taurine anyway? Strong like bull. Hung like bear. We made it. I passed out in the car but caught the tail end of Terry’s talk. Some cute hippy girl asked for his autograph. Then we both went to take a leak. “I got a funny story to tell you about this bathroom,” he said as we stood relieving ourselves.

Back when Terry was an undergrad, he auditioned for Stanley in STREETCAR NAMED DESIRE. There was this Freshman named John Malkovich who was also up for the part. This was back in the late-early-mid-Seventies, when you could still smoke just about anywhere. So John is smoking in the Boy’s Room when Terry comes in shake the Dew off the Lilly, as it were.

John and Terry are at the urinals, giving each other the hairy eyeball, sizing up their competition when all of the sudden Malkovich starts convulsing and grunting. Terry makes his exit thinking that John was having some kind of method acting fit. Turns out, as Terry learned years later when he founded Steppenwolf that John had burned his cock with his cigarette. “Bet it fucked up his audition.” Terry tells me with a sideways glance and just the faintest hint of a smile. Neither on of them got the part, by the by.

I’d like to talk some smack about Terry but he’s a pretty great boss, a great Dad, and a stand-up guy. He let me sleep though the matinee and then gave me a reprieve for the rest of the day. But find your own turkey burger, homeslice. It’s a NEA grant for Pete’s sake!

Next up some gems from Tracy Letts and then a Chicago round up as I promised Mr.Roboto. Only two more installments of this series left . . . I promise!

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