I. HATE. YOU. May 6, 2010

Really.  I hate you.  I’ve been doing stand-up comedy for 7 and a half years.  That’s longer than any job I’ve ever had.  I do it because it’s fun, it’s a lot of hard work, and very satisfying.  If I weren’t funny, I wouldn’t be doing it.  I’m not the funniest person out there, but I know I’m good.  That’s just a fact.

About 2 years ago, I was on my way to a gig at the Big Fish Pub.  On the way, I got a flat.  A complete blow-out.  I got my car to a gas station near the gig and left it there while I performed.  Hey – nothing keeps me from getting on stage.  One of the comics, who goes by “Skipp Dogg” said he’d give me a hand after the show.  He tried filling the tire, but it was shredded, so he waited with me while I waited for a tow.  He said he’d give me a ride to the shop to drop my keys and then home.  No big deal.  I have a ton of guy friends who I trust and had no reason not to trust him.  He’d only do it, though, if I bought him a 40.  A freaking 40.  Oh, yeah, he’s black.  Big, fat, black guy.  Drinking a 40 while driving.  Niiice.  Way to live up to a stereotype, bro!

So, car gets dropped off at the tire place, he takes me home.  As I try to get out of the car, he wants a hug.  No problem.  Then a kiss.  NO WAY.  Not happening.  I literally had to push him away.  (Keep in mind, I am a little over 5 feet tall and about 130 pounds.)  Ever since then, I have kept my distance and done nothing more than a nod or brief “hello” at a show.  How someone can proceed to talk about how nice and beautiful my feet are, at every opportunity, is beyond me.  I know it takes once for me to get the message.  Apparently not with this big boy.  I take care of myself, but that doesn’t mean you have to be creepy about it.

So, a couple of weeks ago, I am on Facebook, (Duh!) and get a friend request from him.  *sigh*  I was hoping this wasn’t going to happen.  I really was, but I’m too nice and go ahead and accept it.  Might as well play nice because the comedy pond here is pretty small.  I can remain stoic and not be rude.  Up pops a chat window and it’s him.  Ugh.  That’s what I actually said out loud to myself.  “Ugh.”  He started asking me some personal questions, like where I taught.  Um, I’m no longer a teacher and haven’t taught in 5 years.  When he asked where I worked now, I simply told him I was in sales.  I wasn’t comfortable with him knowing anything about my personal life.  In fact, not many of the 200 comics here in the PHX know much about my personal life.  I keep it professional and have a few friends in “the biz.”

I explained to him that after the incident a few years ago, I just didn’t feel comfortable with him knowing about my personal life.  I didn’t say it in a mean way, just kept it simple and to the point.  That’s how I roll.  I’m not one to waste time mincing words just to make someone feel better.  That’s what’s wrong with society.  The pussification of America.  Anyway, I closed the chat window and got the following email (this is directly copied from my Facebook email):

“April 19 at 10:26am Report You have your own issues with comics and I’m not silly enough to try to combat that, but you DON”t know me and your juvenile assessmants of me AND everyone else is pointless as I’m an individual in and out of comedy, I DON”T want you… I am a FATHER first and foremost and that’s my focus! You would never have been more than a sexual distraction at best, so whatever you decide to assume about me is of ZERO consequence in my life. In actuality, I 5thougfht you might be a good fuck… What you don’t know while you’re making your amateur assessments of me is that I have raidsed my 4 kids alone and my oldest girl is in her third year of studies after only being out of high school for a bit more than 18 months… I have 2 sons who’re being courted by Princetonwhich is even more impressive given that the oldest is only in 10th grade… I have raised these kids ALONE and don’t need accolades, them being successful is my only goal. ”

(misspellings and grammatical errors have been left in)

Here is my response:

Amy Kopinski Donohue April 19 at 10:43am I really don’t see how anything to do with your kids is of any consequence. I don’t have anything to do personally with male comics because I don’t eat where I shit. There’s this thing called drama and I remain professional in my comedy career because of it.
NOBODY said there was any assessment done on you. Based on my personal experience, with me having to push you away (physically), I don’t want to have any sort of relationship with you. If you don’t remember, well, you had had a few drinks that night, which could explain it.
So, first-hand experience was insulting and rude. Why would I want to call that person a “friend”???????????? My friends wouldn’t do that to me.
I don’t have issues with comics, I just don’t want to share my personal life with them and keep it professional. Nothing wrong with that. Same with work. I don’t blab about my personal life when I’m here. ”

His response (by the way, he blocked me right after sending this, because I could not respond back):

April 19 at 11:01am Report I thought you might be reasonable on some level but you have proved to me that you’re as silly as ever! I don’t give 2 dead flies about your opinion of me. The most you’d ever have been to me was a good fuck, and you couldn’t live up to that…  So please remember that you needed me that night…. Your artificially inflated image of yourself is shared by no one but you, so build your false imagery up and feed your ego, because No ONE sees you as more than a FUCK! TO clarify, I wanted to fuck you at one time… I don’t want your tainted ass on ANY level and was trying to be a friend… You’re undeserving of even that and from now on you need not speak to me or acknowledge me because you’re damaged goods… Tell yourself whatever you must to keep your artificially inflated ego afloat , but NO ONE thinks you’re funny except you! NO ONE wants to do much more than fuck you , wash up and leave. I’m through trying to be cool to your intellectually challenged, self important, mentally insufficient ass. You can eat a dick… OH, my bad, I hear you can and have NO gag reflex… Thank you for confirming that you’re a sub par lonely goofy incomplete woman with little value beyond the carbon your body kicks out when you breathe… ”

I feel like I am back in 7th grade.  Not only is this full of lies, it’s also sexual harassment.  He’s been sexually harassing me for over 2 years.  Why am I doing this?  Well, for starters, I don’t fuck around with comedians.   Come forward if I have, but I stopped drinking 6 years ago and no longer have blackouts.  I think I’d remember.

Your kids are trying extremely hard to succeed because you are the perfect example of NOT being a success.  In anything.  Except for being disrespectful to women.  You’re *really* good at that.  Kudos!

Obviously, this guy really wants to fuck me.  Haha!  I mean, how many times can you mention it???

I’m tired of women being treated like this.  I’m tired of being treated like this as a female comic.

So, this loser showed up at my gig last night.  He was told there wouldn’t be any time for him to go up, as the show was booked and started late because of the Suns game.  He showed up anyway.  I was outside talking to a friend, he came up and tried to shake my hand.  I ignored him and pretended not to notice he existed.  I overheard him say to someone else “Just trying to be a gentleman.”  Are you fucking kidding me????  You think it’s ok to treat someone like that and then shake their hand and think you’re a gentleman???

ARE YOU INSANE???????????????????

I hate you.  You’re jealous because you were turned down.  My mom was afraid that by me posting this, it would ruin my comedy career.   Sorry, Mom, but this piece of shit can’t touch me.  Literally or figuratively.  Fuck you, Skipp Dogg.  Suck my left one.

#gaydrunkdeadlandlord May 4, 2010

So, a little over 3 weeks ago, my neighbor and a friend of my landlord’s found him dead in his apartment.  He owned the place, maintained it and lived there.  Justin was only 40.  He was an alcoholic and pill-popper.  About a month before his death, his medication had been changed from Adderol (upper) to Ambien (sleeping pill), which he took all day, instead of just to sleep at night.  He had gone to a clinic for this, instead of a doctor’s office.  He was a zombie that last month.  On March 18, he had what I would call “an episode” and flipped OUT.  He had sent me nasty texts about the A/C filter in my apartment, about how I am either too lazy or don’t know how to change it myself (isn’t that his job???).  I got this after I had ridden my bike to work AND went hiking after work.  I’m hardly lazy.  Later that evening, as I was making dinner, I saw three cop cars in my parking lot.  I looked out my window into our courtyard, and there were a few cops at his door, talking with him.  He had been harassing my neighbors for months about their PUPPY and even called the police on it a couple of times.  Dexter, my 9-pound rat terrier, is more vicious than this puppy.  The police left, only to return about 10 minutes later.  I saw my neighbor’s dog running up the street and there was a bike in the pool.  He had opened their patio door, let the dog out, and took their bike and threw it in the pool.  No reason.  He was beyond drunk at this point and the cops made him jump into the pool to retrieve the bike.  I’m pretty sure he simply passed out after this.

About a week before he died, I said to my neighbors “I bet he’s dead,” because he wouldn’t be seen for a few days.  His apartment curtains were always closed.  There were “sightings,” but that’s about it.  No interaction with any of us.  Then, on Sunday, April 18th, his accountant stopped by and knocked on my neighbors’ door.  She was concerned that he didn’t show up for their meeting and wasn’t answering his phone or texts.  They decided to break in to his apartment and found him in his bedroom.  They’re still not sure of the cause.  It could be an accidental overdose.  He could have broken his neck.

For now, the guys who were holding the deed are getting our rent, but I’ve heard they may foreclose.  Do I still pay them rent?  Do I have to move?????

I feel like I’m in limbo.  I just moved into that place in October and love my building and neighbors.  A few have moved out, because of the problems they had had with Justin.  Though he’s no longer there, we couldn’t get them to stay.

I don’t like knowing I may not have a home.  It’s not like *I* am foreclosing.  I am paying rent every month to have a roof over my head…which I may not have.

What am I good at??? May 3, 2010

I’ve had a bit of a dilemma lately.  I love the place where I work, but my actual job is not suitable to my personality.  I am paid to be a robot all day long.  I’m bored.  When Amy gets bored, bad things happen.  Like spitballs and practical jokes.  Can’t do that when you have a personality in a place that should be painted grey everywhere.  Grey lights, walls, chairs…even grey pens.

There’s a marketing position open that I applied for.  I just think it would be better for me to do.  I just don’t want to have to have the wrath of my boss come down on me for applying, let alone getting the position.  I’m just really frustrated right now.

I also have no idea if my home is going to continue to be my home in the next couple of months.  Since my landlord died 3 weeks ago, I’ve been told the place might go into foreclosure.  I just moved in October and really don’t want to do it again!!!  I have a lot of stuff.  I’m 39.  I have a huge couch which I totally love, but it limits the places I’d move in to.  I’m not getting any answers.  If it happens, and I have to move, I’m moving Downtown and putting my couch in storage.  I mean, there’s no way I will get the size I have now for the same price Downtown.  Roommates aren’t an option.  People are fucking crazy.  Gawd, I love my couch.

Oh, and boys.  Boys are so frustrating lately, too.  And I am totally not the type to stereotype anyone, but there is a huge difference between white and black guys.  You give you number to a white guy, he’ll text forever but never make that first phone call.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I prefer to text my friends.  I don’t have time to gab on the phone to let you know we are meeting at FEZ at 6.  That’s what texts are for.  Texts are NOT for actually getting to know someone.  Sure, ask me what my favorite color is.  That’s not ME as a person, though.  I had a guy text me on a Saturday night, after having my number for 3 weeks, telling me to meet him at the Sail Inn to see some live music.  Um.  First of all, you’re not getting my Saturday night if you’ve never called me.  How do I know we can carry on a conversation at all?  Why would I waste my Saturday night on you, a wet washcloth???  A first “date” shouldn’t happen until a phone conversation happens.  I’m way too smart for some people and if you’re a drip, we won’t be dating.  At all.  So, I sent him a text back saying “Sorry, I’ve never spoken to you and I’m already out.”  So what does he do?  He calls.  Right then.  I didn’t answer.  If shit like that has to be pointed out, you’re too stupid to date me.

Here’s what else I got:
“I didn’t know if you were busy.”  Um…how are you going to know if you don’t call????  There’s this thing called “voicemail.”  I know, it’s a new concept and you may not know how to use it.  If that’s the case, you’re too stupid to date me.

Now, I gave my number to a black guy and guess what?  He called me the next day and we’ve been out twice.  HE ACTUALLY CALLED ME AND ASKED ME OUT!!!!  We’ve texted/emailed, all that stuff.  But he’s actually called and actually asked me out.  BALLS.  That guy has balls.  I will marry him, just for that.