Andrew J. Lederer

My appearance at "It Came from New York" at the Bowery Poetry Club last night went great. The theme was "Subway Stories" and I told a lot of them in my Edinburgh show last year, so I was more than well-prepared.

I love to test the audience's willingness to go along with me (they often fail the test -- or maybe I'm the one who fails), so it was gratifying to find acceptance and a fond embrace even as I told them of an adolescent masturbation escapade on an empty middle-of-the night train. (Subway masturbation seems to have fallen into disrepute as renegade practitioners have taken to doing it when other people are present.)

There were many smiling people complimenting me on their way out (though, as of my last search, no one seems to have been moved to enthusiastically blog about me). After the show, I went out with some of the gang but left quickly because an aspirin taken without water during the afternoon had turned into an ulcer-style stomach ache. (I had decided that rather than stop eating badly, I needed to take an aspirin to stave off a heart attack during my afternoon nap -- I know you're only supposed to take part of an aspirin for that purpose, but I figured since my face still hurt, I could use the pain-relieving, too)

I was so distracted was I by my pain that I accidentally left without paying for my fries. Since I was too far away to go back when I realized this, I used the "extra" money I now had to buy a cheese steak.

I woke up depressed.