My Blackout with David Cross

I just HAD to meet David Cross. I told myself, "I'm going to meet the fuck out of him. He's not going to want to meet anyone for weeks after me." I booked a flight right away.

I believe it was six years ago when my good friend Pete was back in town, visiting from NYC. He told me that his band, Double Dong and the Wyld Lixx, had been asked by David Cross (of _Mr. Show_ fame) to be one of the opening acts for some variety show he was putting on at Irving Plaza in Manhattan.

Being a huge fan, I decided that I simply must attend this event. I just _had_ to meet David Cross. I told myself, "I'm going to meet the fuck out of him. He's not going to want to meet anyone for weeks aftermeeting me." I booked a flight right away.

The night of the show, I went early with Pete and his bandmates for the sound check and setup. As they were busy doing this, I just wandered around the theater, coming across David several times. I was just way to shy to say a word to him. But I still had plenty of time to meet him. Booze would surely loosen me up. Yeah, gotsta get me some booze.

Since I was accompanying one of the bands, I was allowed upstairs into the VIP area, which felt pretty great. There were many other celebrities up there: Janeane Garofalo and other members of _Mr. Show_ (who were part of the show doing stand-up), Yo La Tengo (who performed last), Jack Black, Tom Hanks's son, the Strokes (one of whom bummed a smoke off me), and I don't remember who else. So not only were there all these celebrities, there were also many, many bottles o' booze...free, free booze.

I'm up there, all by myself, with no one to talk to and feeling rather nervous and silly. So what do I do? I drink. And drink. And then I have another coupla five drinks.

The show was awesome. It was great seeing David's stand-up, and Yo La Tengo, as usual, were brilliant. After it was all over, we ended up at a private after-party at some bar. By this time, I was pretty damned saucy. I vaguely remember being introduced to Jack Black and feeling like I highly _un_-impressed him. I don't remember very much after this.

Next morning, Pete, his bandmates, and I were on our way to breakfast. Bleary and crapulently hungover, I was bemoaning in my head how I came all this way and never got a chance to meet David Cross. During our meal, Pete asked me, "So, what were you and David talking about?"

Confused, I replied, "What're you talking about? I didn't even get to meet him."

Pete looks at me like I'm an idiot and says, "Um, you were sitting in a booth with him, having a conversation."

My hangover suddenly intensifies. What?? I was incredulous. But who was I to argue. After a certain point, I didn't remember anything.

So, not only did I, perhaps, _meet_ _the_ _fuck_ out of David Cross, for all I know, I actually _fucked_ David Cross as well. Will never know for sure.

Comments

No comments yet, why not leave one of your own?



Leave a Comment or Share Your Story

Please Sign In. Only community members can comment.


 
SMITH Magazine

SMITH Magazine is a home for storytelling.
We believe everyone has a story, and everyone
should have a place to tell it.
We're the creators and home of the
Six-Word Memoir® project.