A friend took me to see a play at the Public Theater called, “Drunk Enough to Say I Love You?” The best part of the play was in the lobby when my friend saw Philip Seymour Hoffman and I saw Maria Tucci. We should have left then. But we didn’t. We sat in the front row. Two men on a couch spoke in clipped unfinished sentences arguing and agreeing about every political plight and wrongdoing in the world. The second best part about the play was that it was 40 minutes long. If you’re a bad play I appreciate it when you’re time conscientous (I am not drunk enough to spell this word correctly). There’s nothing worse than a bad play, except having to sit through it. When I lived in Europe with The Clown we stumbled upon some performance in a garage where people were wearing comedy and tragedy masks and throwing veal at each other. True story.

Other things that happened in Europe: We stole a queen size mattress from a hotel room to exchange for our double. When we heard someone coming we opened the door to the stairwell and stowed the mattress. Then we took the elevator back to our room to get the double but we forgot where we put the Queen. We spent a lot of time up time running up and down those stairs. Already that’s a better play than the one we saw.

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