Tina Rowley

writer + (performer) + [space left open for surprises]

max fischer didn't turn out well

Oh, man. This loud, wrongly genteel drunken fellow in a tuxedo just knocked on our door and asked Dave to help push his car into a driveway. He'd left his lights on. Much retardedness ensued*, involving Tuxedo yelling at an off-duty cop** who told him that he wouldn't be driving anywhere tonight.

*including Tuxedo telling us we have a beautiful lawn. Oh, Tuxedo. You can say many things about our lawn, like "Why don't you cut it?" or "You must love dandelions", but you can't say it's beautiful.

**He accused the cop of being a serial killer and demanded to see his license number.

But my favorite part was when Dave left him. Apparently, Tuxedo said, "I'm the star of a play, and I'm going to bring some tickets by for you and your wife!"

I love I'm the star of a play!

Next time I'm in a play, that's how I'm going to tell people about it. With verve like that.

Right now, the Tuxedo's out on the street yelling HELP! HELP! to passing cars, trying to get a jump so he can drive on ill-advisedly out into the night. I bet those cars would stop if they knew he was the star of a play!

Now he's fallen asleep in his car. Sleep well, Hamlet. Don't go anywhere.