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After a couple of pitchers of margaritas, I found myself at an open mic night for storytellers named after a Battlestar Galacta* catch phrase Saturday night. One of my fellow students of the statistical sciences had promised me it was a good time, “if you can get past the uber-hipsterness” of the whole thing. The (weekly?) event features people in ironic t-shirts telling true stories that somehow related to the nights theme, ‘It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time.’ Judges scored the storytellers, and I’m assuming clapping, a small trophy and a gift certificate for very tight jeans went to the champion.
At intermission we decided our time would be better spent at a bar, but the contestants up until then fell into three categories.
- Guys who got up and did a reasonably good job telling funny stories. Poop stories seemed to get the most laughs.
- People who told emotional stories poorly. This seemed to be the route to high scores.
- The guy who was drawn from the crowd to tell a story. Unlike the rest of the storytellers, who had been practicing for an unknown length of time, this fellow had to wing it. He opted to not so much tell a story, but make bad Seinfeld like observations about things not mentioned in polite company, like anal sex, masterbation and poop. The poop was thrown in because it had worked for the previous guy.
While I don’t think I’ll become a regular, and I wouldn’t drop the $5 suggested donation on the event, it was a good change of pace from standing in a bar or going to a movie on a saturday night.
*There was no mention of Battlestar Galactica, but my roommates are big fans so I know a BSG reference when I hear it.