Well, surely, with my man in town, you didn’t think you were getting away with just two posts about him, duh!
Last night, I put on my glad rags (i.e. a skirt) and met up with the Divine Ms. D, newly relocated from LA, for a bite to eat in North Beach. Originally planning to hit Rose Pistola’s we were both running too late to make the battle to their bar worthwhile.
Quick interjection, I was at the Sanchez Grotto where my friend Melodie and others park their booties on a daily basis to hammer out brilliant prose. Hers is due out this fall and titled “My Lost and Found Life” (see photo).
D and I landed up at Piazza Pellegrini on Columbus where we were delightfully surprised by the staff, including the darling owner, and the most delicious Italian food this side of Milan. But we were in a rush and had to bid a hasty farewell ~ baci to all ~ promising to return very soon.
I was bummed when we got to Cobb’s Comedy Club to discover that a line had already formed. Never mind, we got a pretty decent seat appointed to us by the very efficient, if not in fact Nazi-like staff. It was enough to make me declare that I would never return to Cobb’s again. What can I say, they were just trying to do their jobs… get everyone in place to buy their two drink minimum before the show started. Thankfully, the show was funny. Mike Capozzola hosted and Brian Malow warmed up for Craig. Before too long, tears were streaming down everyone’s faces.
Craig looked way more dapper than he had in his writer’s duds – all in black ~ I swear, he must have studied the San Francisco style ~ with his hair coiffed, he looked very handsome indeed. To be truthful, however, he wasn’t tickling my funny bone quite as much as I’d expected. And, naturally, I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut, so when he polled the audience on who was there from Canada, I spoke up and asked why he didn’t poll on who was there from Scotland. Give the man his due, he stopped to politely listen to me… and then moved on. Of course, I had to speak up again, as well as give him my card at the end of the show. At least I know at this point in time, Craig Ferguson knows I exist, which is enough until I get my boss on his show (fingers crossed).
Quick note to Craig ~ Dear Craig, If you read this when you next Google yourself, have a heart and support a fellow author and filmmaker trying to make a difference in the Indie world, pretty please. Signed your most devoted fan… xoxoxoxoxoxo