#jim got his bf the purse he wanted :') | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

It’s Alright, I’ve Got You.

Requested?: Yep! @gingeraleluke sent it in and of course I had to write it. One of Dwight’s weapons falls from under a table and Y/N steps on it, prompting Jim to go full blown protective bf even though no-one knows they’re dating!

Word Count: 4.0K+

Author’s Note: I solemnly swear to write as much Jim Halpert fanfiction as y’all want. He is a bean and I love writing Office-universe stuff. After that smut that I released, we do need some fluff though.

Warning: gore, and descriptions of injury. Otherwise, floof.

You couldn’t remember the last time a storm raged with such force over Scranton, but it did little to keep you in your flat that Tuesday morning. Perhaps, in hindsight, it was a bad omen, a warning of things to come, but you we determined that morning, too stubborn to call in sick or wait for the pouring rains to soften their attack.

That morning, you washed and dried your hair like it wasn’t about to frizz in the humidity, you put on waterproof mascara and set your face with hope the makeup wouldn’t run; you ate your breakfast and drank your first cup of coffee of the morning like the roads outside weren’t a few raindrops from flooding; and you left your apartment, an umbrella over your head as you trotted to your car and tried to ignore the water splashing onto your tights. With a few flips of the key, clearing the exhaust of water, you started your car and breathed a sigh of relief once you were on your way to work. The rain had done little permanent damage, and you were hopeful you would find a parking spot close to the door.

Today was important for you, a meeting with clients at the office to discuss a major shipment you and Jim had been organising for months now, the last thing you wanted to do was be late for it. The job itself was uninteresting to say the least, but you knew you wouldn’t let yourself let Jim down. He was your best friend, your sales partner, and as of recently, the realised love of your life.

Of course, you hadn’t told your co-workers, apart from Pam; but she was a trusted confidante. Apart from her, your relationship was very much private, how both of you liked it for the moment. There was no too-personal questions about sex from Michael, no creepy postulations from Dwight, no dirty glances from Angela for being ‘ruined’: in short, you had peace to work through your relationship at your pace, and it was going great as a result. You’d tell them all soon, obviously, but when was still undetermined.

You slowed at a stop light, your windscreen wipers struggling to keep your window clear for the sheer amount of rain, and you signalled left, deciding to turn on your fog lights on top of your low beams. The roads were too treacherous to avoid safety, and you felt safer as you turned onto the main road, joining a stream of traffic heading into the centre of Scranton, though it was thinner than usual.

The trip to work took longer than usual, but you still arrived early, and gave yourself a moment to prepare yourself for the dash to the door. You tucked your keys into your purse, planning to lock your car from the reception, and you checked your makeup in your rear mirror once more, making sure that your lips were still unsmudged, that the mascara was holding up the title of waterproof. With a final check you had collected your belongings, you kicked your car door out and opened your umbrella against the ice-cold pellets of aqua. You were swift, careful in your heels to avoid drains and broken cement blocks on the path that could splash more water on you.

“Mind if I share?” A voice called through the din of water hitting the ground, and you found a rather wet Jim by your side, his frozen hands coming to your waist and urging you forward as you both fended off the rain with your umbrella. Once you had gotten under the entryway, you shook out your saving grace and closed it, turning to find Jim holding open the front door for you.

“Halpert, you look like a drenched dog.” You stated in place of thanking him for the courtesy, walking into the Scranton Business Park building that housed Dunder Mifflin. Jim followed, deciding to play the part you had assigned and shake the water from his hair, spraying your dress skirt with rainwater. You squealed at the action, letting down your professional demeanour to giggle at the goof you called a boyfriend. After a quick glance behind you to see if anyone was around, you pulled Jim over to you by a sopping wet tie and pressed your lips to his. Sweet, chaste, a secret gesture.

“I always knew you were a dog person.” He responded, capturing your lips once more with a cheeky smile. “Good morning, Y/L/N…” He grinned, sauntering toward the elevator like he hadn’t left your breathless at 8.32 in the morning. You followed after him, the doors opening and both of you stepping into the lift. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the steel, fixing your lipstick quickly as you shot up to your floor. You felt a presence behind you, Jim’s hands resting on your waist for a second time, and you could make out his hazy reflection in the metal.

“Are you still up for a movie tonight?” You asked, unable to stop the blush that rose on your cheeks as Jim’s lips pressed onto the top of your hair, which had managed to survive the weather rather miraculously.

“Like I could ever say no to you.” Jim responded, lifting one of your hands and holding it in his own. Despite the size difference, they fit together perfectly. “I love you.” He whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek just before the doors opened to your floor, and just as soon as he was there he was gone, off into the office. You tried to quell the smile that had caused dimples in your cheeks as you walked in, but failed rather miserably.

“Why are you so happy?” Were the first words you were greeted with as you came through the door to the office, from a rather moody Dwight of all people. You took off your coat, Pam not yet at her desk for a greeting, and walked over to your desk across from the spectacled asshole, seating yourself and exaggerating the smile into a maniacal grin.

“You know Dwight, people are allowed to be happy in spite of the weather. You’d know if you had ever experienced real emotion. Tell me, do robots need to go in for MOTs?” You were quick and sharp with your tongue when you wanted to be, and earned a chuckle from Jim, who had begun printing off the last of the files needed for the day’s meeting.

“If I were a robot, Y/N, I’d be part of a superior race. Your flesh vessel would be no match for my metal structure.” Dwight countered, and Jim looked over from the copy machine.

“You hear that? Sounds like something a robot would say.” Jim shrugged, sending a wink your way.

The rest of your co-workers trudged their way into the office, each one wetter than the last. It seemed like the rain you had battled against was just the start of whatever bizarrely named storm had landed atop your city that day. With Pam’s appearance, the poor thing shaking from the cold, you disappeared into the kitchen to pour her a warm cup of coffee, sorting one for Jim as well.

“You, Y/N, are the angel I’ve always needed.” Pam smiled through chattering teeth as you handed over her favourite mug, walking back to set down Jim’s coffee without a second glance.

“It’s mutual, Pam. What happened? You look like you’ve been plucked out the Atlantic.” You asked, walking round her desk to help her take off her jacket and cardigan, both items soaked so thoroughly you were sure you could fill a bath with the water retained in the items.

“My car wouldn’t start, so I had to get the bus… The thing stopped two blocks away, this is the result of sprinting through the rain.” Pam pouted as she spoke, and you smiled sadly at her. She took another sip of her coffee, plopping onto her chair, seeming to be contemplating something over the beverage. “Does Kelly still keep a hairdryer here?” She asked.

“You know, I was about to suggest the exact same thing. I have the morning basically free until my meeting at 11.45. Why don’t I fetch the space heater to keep you warm, and we can dry off your clothes in the bathroom?” You offered, throwing her wet cardigan over your arm, and leaning down to press a kiss to your friend’s cheek.

“God, Pam you look awful.” A voice interrupted your kind gesture, Michael stood by the coat rack, taking off a jacket that looked like it belonged in the artic tundra. “Wet to the core- oh! That’s what she said!” He called out in excitement, laughing at his own innuendo.

“Michael, there’s a call waiting on line two.” You lied, and he raised an eyebrow.

“But-”

“Go be busy and leave Pam be.” You ordered, and Michael nodded, moping as he headed into his office. While you were a nice enough person, you kept up a rather stern persona in the office, and Michael perhaps was or was not a little scared of you. You departed from Pam’s desk, walking to your own and calling Michael’s phone from your own.

“Hello?” Michael answered, and you smiled at him through the window.

“Morning Michael. Have you got the 11.45 scheduled in?” You reminded with a sweet voice, watching Michael frantically look for his calendar.

“Uh… Uh, yeah! I do! Wait a minute, I didn’t schedule this in…” He muttered, dropping the phone and walking to the door of his office. “Thanks Pam.” He called, startling the young woman, but leaving a smile on her face, nonetheless. You put down the phone, quickly checking your emails and making sure you were set for later that morning.

“Jim, you alright to take care of the rest of the printing?” You asked, glancing over and trying your best to keep your heart from melting. Jim was sat at his desk, brow furrowed as he proof-read something on his screen, sipping his coffee rather absentmindedly. “Jim.” You repeated, and his head shot up, the crease disappearing as a smile formed.

“On it.” He responded, giving you leave to find Kelly’s hairdryer and ring out Pam’s cardigan.

“Why does Y/N get to slack off?” Dwight muttered once you had disappeared through the kitchen door. Jim watched you leave for a moment before coming back to, looking over at an unhappy Dwight.

“She’s not slacking off, Dwight, she’s doing a co-worker a favour. You should try it once and a while.” Jim countered, putting Dwight on the defensive.

“I’ll have you know that if it weren’t for me, none of you in this office would be safe.” He was sure in his words, but a phone call came through before Jim could question what his colleague could possibly mean.

11 am rolled around fast, and with Pam’s cardigan ringed out and blow-dried, along with a few other team members’ outer wears (Jim’s tie included), you were finally starting to feel nervous. As much as you enjoyed helping your colleagues out, having even taken off your shoes to get around the office quicker, you realised as you distributed the dry clothes to individuals that you were just trying to preoccupy yourself. This meeting was important, and while you had no doubts in Jim or yourself, you had a feeling you were missing something.

“Water!” You squeaked as you handed over a scarf to Oscar, who raised an amused eyebrow at you.

“Don’t you think we’ve got enough outside?” He asked, and you laughed a little.

“Sorry, for the meeting today. I should clean up some matching water glasses for the clients.” You explained, lifting a sweater from your arm and passing it to Angela. She seemed in a good mood today, perhaps because in between your drying of clothes you had offered her a cat shaped cookie to go with her coffee. Andy had probably brought them in to amuse her.

“That’s a very clever idea, Y/N. We won’t keep you from getting started on that.” She said, and you nodded, knowing that Angela had politely dismissed you to focus on her work. You marched through to the kitchen, lifting the nicest glass tumblers you could find and beginning to wash a set of six, humming as you did.

“I know what you’re doing.” A familiar voice came from behind you, Jim placing a hand on the small of your back for a second to reach around you. “Why are you so nervous? We’re the dream team, cutie. The clients will love us.”

“I know, I know…” You sighed, lifting two of the glasses from the suds and placing them on the drying rack. “I’m just… It’s a big deal, I feel like if one thing goes wrong…” Jim cut you off with a shake of the head, picking up a tea towel to dry off the cups.

“Y/N, you wrote and printed six-chapter binder about the entire order. From processing to delivery, with notes on every possible question they could ask. You then made Dwight and I memorise the binder, like we don’t have other clients.” Jim teased you, placing the dried glasses onto a serving platter. You glanced at the clock, 11.20 am. 25 minutes to go.

“You’re right… Like always.” You gave in, happily defeated, and set down the final tumblers and the water jug on the drying rack, Jim swift on his self-assigned role in your cleaning chain.

“Here, I have an idea.” He began, filling up the jug with cold water. “Why don’t you head to the break room, get yourself something as sweet as you, make sure you don’t go into the meeting low on sugar.” Jim suggested, pulling a slightly damp $5 bill from his pocket. You reached to grab it, Jim then deciding to be an ass and lift it higher than you could reach.

“You keep this up the whole office will know we screw, Halpert.” You warned, batting your eyes as a pretty please. Jim just laughed lightly, handing the money over and grinning from ear to ear. You smirked back. “I love you, you know.” You said quickly, walking from the kitchen to the annexe, waving a quick hello to Kelly, who was enjoying her warm and dry faux fur wrap, while Jim just smiled to himself and went about carrying the water jug and galsses through to the conference room.

You slipped into the empty break room and took a deep breath. Jim was right, there was nothing to fear about this meeting: the clients were great people, understanding, and the shipment was all ready to go in the warehouse. You rolled the cricks out of your neck, stretching your arms up to the fluorescent lights to relieve whatever tension remained. You headed for the vending machine, skirting round a pulled-out chair and stopping to face the machine stocked full of goodies. By the looks of it, the machine must have been refilled in the last few days, and your fingers hovered over the array of treats, stopping on your favourite, one that you hadn’t seen in the vendor in months.

Slotting in the bill, you typed in your choice, and when the change came through, you picked out Jim’s favourite candy too, a little thank you for his calming techniques. You scooped the snacks out the bottom, swivelling around a little to quick and bumping into the chair you had been so careful to avoid coming over.

With the bump, you knocked into one of the tables and ended up stumbling. Your auxiliary foot did it’s best to steady you, but you were falling over. So, you placed down your dominant foot despite the odd angle with as much force as you could, frightened to hit the ground and possibly rip your tight right before a big meeting.

There’s a moment when one realises a mistake before it occurs, but cannot change it. It happened as your strong foot was about a cm from the ground, a pinch. Your mind immediately registered that you were probably stepping onto a tac or upturned loose staple, and you were ready to mumble curses under your breathe and feel a quick nip.

What came instead was blinding pain that forced you to the floor, banging your head on the damned chair that caused all this on the way down. The snacks you have so carefully thought out flew across the room, and you instinctively reached for your foot, only to pull your hand back when you cut yourself. The amount of blood covering your hand was dizzying, and as you finally felt the pain take full control of your head, you did the only thing you could think of.

You screamed.

No-one in the office was expecting to hear a scream at 11.30 in the office, especially not one so haunting. For a second, everyone was still, Michael silencing his rant about Staples, hands across the room moving from keyboards in a moment of terror.

And then the second scream came, and Jim flew into action.

He had been at his desk, making sure he had printed off everything the pair of you needed, and trying to block out Michael’s nonstop talk when he heard it. And, to be fair, he never had heard you scream in terror before, it took him a second to register the sound. And it froze him too, this haunting call, it froze the office. But when the second one rang out, he was certain it was you, and propelled himself towards the breakroom, where Kelly now stood, Pam and the rest o the team hot on your tail.

Jim had never seen so much blood, You were barely awake on the floor, the carpet below you now a crimson colour, one of your hands clutched to your chest. All Jim could see for a moment was the red, but he knocked it quickly from his mind. You were hurting, he needed to get you help.

“Y/N, it’s alright, I’ve got you… Come on Y/L/N, look at me…” He begged, dress pants now stained with blood as he knelt down and lifted you from the ground. A few team members had to step away from the sight, Michael included, leaving Jim with a very select team.

“Stanley I need you opening doors. Meredith, can you find any sort of towels, we need to stop the bleeding… Jesus Christ what is in you foot Y/L/N?” The question was more to himself than to the team, who watched in curiosity at how Jim interacted with you: he cradled you close, he barked orders, the worry on his face was clear.

He was scared for your wellbeing.

“You know, if she hadn’t been slacking off none of this would have happened.” Dwight piped up out of the blue, causing heads to turn as Meredith passed towels to Pam, who carefully began wrapping Y/N’s foot to stop the bleeding, Meredith then moving to wrap Y/N’s hand.

“Dwight, what did you do?” Jim asked, pausing for a moment to look at his desk mate. When he received no response, Jim lost it. “WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO DWIGHT?!” He shouted, all eyes on the pair. Dwight tried to look strong, righteous, but the façade was quickly faltering.

“I-I keep weapons in the office… For protection.”

“Protection?!” Pam snapped. “There’s a throwing star in Y/L/N’s foot, Dwight!”

“I’m good with small, long distance objects.” Dwight shrugged, and Jim looked like he would murder Dwight on the spot if it weren’t for you in his arms. His Y/N.

“Let’s get her to the hospital before she loses any more blood. Pam, you’re driving. Andy, Dwight, take over the pitch meeting. Fuck it up and there’s hell to pay. And Dwight?” Jim called back as he, Stanley and Pam made there way towards the exit. “If anything, and I mean anything, happens to Y/N because of your goddamn bullshit, you will not live to see tomorrow.” Jim warned, and Dwight visibly gulped, watching the quartet left with a lump in his throat.

When you woke up, you were scared. You felt weak, your whole body ached, and your head pounded like no-one’s business. There was also a lot of pressure around your hand and foot, the material you wore felt funny, and you were in a bed that was most certainly not your own.

And then it came back. The pain, the blacking out. You were in a hospital.

You tried to sit up straight, your heart monitor to your right beginning to beep faster and faster, you frantic in your search for any sort of explanation.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright baby, it’s all good.” A voice came from your left, a blurry figure you quickly recognised as Jim running to your side from the corner of the room. You blinked away the tears to see clearly, and he smiled, instantly calming you. “You’ve been through quite a bit Y/L/N, you need to stay comfy in bed.” He instructed, taking a second to disappear before pulling over a chair to sit by your side.

“What-what time is it?” You asked, lifting a hand to hold Jim’s. Your eyes widened. “The client deal-”

“Andy and Michael have sorted it all out. That binder you made really saved their asses.” Jim assured before glancing at the wall clock. “Almost 7… You were out for a while, they had to put you under anaesthesia and everything.” Jim explained, and you took in his appearance completely. He was out of his work clothes, changed into a t-shirt and jeans no doubt brought in by Pam, and despite his dishevelled hair and brow creased from worry, he look his usually self. Except for the bandage around his arm.

“What happened?” You asked, reaching over to touch it.

“You lost a far bit of blood, and even though I should really know it I had no clue what blood type you were. But I’m O Negative, and the hospital needed an emergency transfusion…” Jim shrugged like it was nothing, but you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes.

“I can’t believe how clumsy I was.” You whispered, shaking your head in shame. You had stepped on something and fallen down, and Jim had to donate blood to you? He was quick to shush you though, leaning over and placing kisses on your forehead.

“Baby, this wasn’t your fault… It was Dwight’s actually.” Jim paused to steady his breathing. “The asshat hid weapons around the office, one of them being the ninja star that got lodged in your foot and required surgery to remove.” You blinked a few times, trying to process the words, make sense of what you had just been told. Dwight… Weapons… Ninja Stars…

When Jim saw the smile on your face, he was caught off guard, but as you started to giggle he soon clicked and joined in the laughter. It was ridiculous, such a bizarre idea that it would only happen at your office building with Dwight.

After a few moments of shared laughter, the tension in the room eased, a knock sounded on the door, a doctor entering the room with a smile.

“Miss Y/L/N, glad to see you up and smiling. I was hoping we could run over your next few weeks, the precautions you’ll have to take until you hand and foot heal.” They asked, and you nodded, Jim pressing a kiss to your forehead and holding your good hand between his, his thumbing stroking your knuckles and the rain continued to storm outside.

The rest period wasn’t long, and after two weeks your hand had healed to a sufficient degree that you could use crutches and get back to work. You first day back on the job compromised of a surprise party, cake, Dwight apologising multiple times and very little work.

What was best about it all though? Jim, right by your side, the whole office now quite aware of where you stood with each other: which was, no matter what, side by side.

Bonus, you got to keep the throwing star, and it has since been framed in the office, rightly labelled as ‘How the office found out Jim and Y/N were dating’.

#jim halpert x reader #fluff #jim halpert #the office #fanfiction #john krasinski

1K notes · View notes

winstonhcomedy · 5 years

Text

How’d Winston Do Last Night? 10/31

Last night was a spooky night of salacious comedy. I definitely had a moment last night where I was probably at my scariest.

Last night was Home Sweet Home and I don’t think that’s an open mic I’ve had the opportunity to talk to you all about. It is every first, third, and fifth Wednesday of the month in Richmond.

It is hosted by my really good friend Jacob McFadden. Jacob used to run an open mic at a spot called Pie before it closed down. I unfortunately never got to do that show, but I try to get to HSH every chance I get.

Jacob is a really strong comic who unfortunately isn’t out as much as he used to be. I’ve booked him on some shows and he always follows through with a strong set. Right now he is going through a super tough time, because his baby niece passed away suddenly. This was the first time I’d seen him since then but he did seem in good spirits but def more somber than usual. I don’t usually do this, but if your heart compels you click this link and donate money to the ASPCA in her name. I know it would mean a lot since she absolutely loved animals!

https://www.gofundme.com/gopupmezsuzsi?fbclid=IwAR2CF2kq1dFs8Uvt5d__gP6L3GW7CuNEUC8jIFHE37pjCXKZSm1IO9bPVhs

Thanks guys!

HSH is a grilled cheese restaurant and bar with an upstairs loft area where the comedy shows take place. Everybody gets about 5 to 7 minutes, and there are never any content restrictions. The crowd can be hit or miss, but it is usually a productive mic.

I got to the show last night dressed as Calvin and Hobbes, and got to chill with Francesca Lyn and her boyfriend/good friend of mine Clay Shoaf. Fran had mouse ears on and Clay was wearing a graphic hat, bit jacket, and was carrying a joke book of “hilarious one liners”.

Clay used to come out and do comedy a lot more, and in all actuality he was the very first person in the Richmond comedy community who was not only nice to me, but that I considered a friend. He also performed on the first Clash of the Comics that I was on.

When Clay was going up every night and really hitting it hard you could always expect some interesting and funny takes from him. He is definitely a comic who modeled himself after guys like Doug Stanhope, but the difference is unlike most of the people who try to copy that style; Clay had a unique take and strong joke writing ability. There were countless times where Clay would bomb don’t get me wrong, but even then I always looked forward to hearing what new shit he had to talk about.

Since he has put comedy on the back burner for the last year or so I’ve come to really appreciate when he comes out to mics. When he is out it usually means something inventive/weird/offensive/wild is going to happen. Which I always love to see. Clay isn’t everybody’s cup of tea and I fully understand that. But there is literally nothing that brings me greater joy than seeing a group of new comics see Clay Shoaf for the first time.

It was kind of a light crowd but nothing too bad. The people were a little talkative, but they were into it. Danny Dunlea went first and didn’t have the hottest set. People were still shuffling in, and seemed disinterested.

Next was my set. Jacob likes to have fun with intros so I got brought up as a white nationalist which was exciting. I did a little light crowd work and got some good pops then started working on my jokes. I referenced Jim Crow and a dude was like too soon, I told him a white guy dressed as Kanye West for Halloween doesn’t really get to make that call. That got a good laugh and I kept doing my material. It went well. Definitely felt like I started to get them into it. I ended with a brand new joke, and it went well. I’d give this set a B-. It was fun and spooky!!!!!

Afte me was Francesca. She did a sweatiest I gave her and it went ok. She got some laughs out of some interesting premises. She had a good line about Lunchables and Andes Mints, and she closed out about how she only sleeps with Wiccans. All in all pretty good set for the crowd.

After her was Clay. Clay was doing a character called Comedian Big Lil’ The Comic. He was a grizzled hacky road comic. He came up shit on the room a bit, sat down, and read out of a joke book. By the end of it he was pitching his bumper stickers, and begging people to buy from him. It was a great character and my favorite set that I got to see of the night. He had sunglasses and a ridiculous hat on and it just sold the whole thing.

After his set my buddy Bryan Williams went up and did ok. He talked about how small his dick is since he is asian which is a joke he knows I hate. It got some laughs, but he’s a new dude who is still struggling to find himself on stage. He talked about being Bi which is my favorite thing he talks about because he doesn’t look like a stereotypical bi/gay guy. He will figure it out, but he’s always a good hang. I love the dude.

After him was Mu Cuzzo. Funny new comic who was trying to work out his crowd work. He is doing ok for 2 minutes until he points to a girl in the audience and starts talking about her “slutty” outfit. She took this to mean He thought she was a slut so she got up and is yelling at him for being rude and calling him a slut. It was crazy uncomfortable. It was also hilarious to see someone who has their ass cheeks hanging out arguing the differences between her “naughty” schoolgirl outfit and a “slutty” schoolgirl outfit. She wasn’t crazy or mean, and she went the route of trying to embarrass him. Telling the audience, “I hope you laugh at this man’s jokes. He’s a bad man.”

She left and took her bf with her, and Mu kept doing crowd work. Rule #1 of crowd work is ladies don’t like being referred to as sluts. It was a good learning experience for him. Crowd work is a lot harder than most comics give it credit for. 90% of comics who shit talk it do not have the ability to do it. Joke writing is amazing and important but crowd work is a difficult and important skill to master.

During this whole thing I walk upstairs and caught Bert Martling going through my stuff and flipping my backpack inside out again. I had already told him that if he did it again I was going to fight him. I had reiterated this several times over the past couple weeks.

I caught him while he was in the middle of it and Mu was still on stage. So I just started yelling at him. I got so heated, and it was the angriest I’ve been in a long time. Bryan and Francesca were right next to it when it was happening and they looked mortified. Especially Bryan. The look on his face was hilarious.

I don’t like resorting to yelling, but that is a super personal boundary to cross. I legit carry everything in that backpack. I have my MacBook, my headphones, all of my joke books, my glasses, my wallet, and lots of stuff from work including drawings from my students; and quite honestly I don’t want or think anyone should go through anyone else’s bag. That is an invasion of privacy, and super messed up. Especially after already saying it was off limits.

Now some people are going to be like, “that’s not a big deal Winston. I don’t know why you’re freaking out rn.” Well screw you guys. I had to leave last night because I double checked in the bag and one of the drawings my students made got ripped when he was doing it. I had to leave or I was going to absolutely lose it again.

To me it was the equivalent of going through a lady’s purse. It’s such an invasion, and a line that in my opinion shouldn’t be crossed. I can legit take a joke about anything. You can joke about me, my joke, my family, my religion, who I date, what I believe in, and I will laugh right along with you. But if you invade my privacy like that I am not going to be ok with it, and quite frankly I don't think anyone should be.

After this happened I watched Jameson Babbowski do a weird ass set as a Geraman dude with a ridiculous hat. Like just a wack wizards cap. He had a Bose speaker playing some German techno song but it was so low literally no one could hear it. He had fun, and it was super weird. This is the kind of thing I love to watch. People did not get it, but he committed.

So I left and Bert eventually sent me an apology message and I accepted it and moved on. I don’t hate Bert, I’m not mad at Bert (anymore), and I don’t even dislike him. I just felt violated, a boundary had been crossed, and I didn’t feel respected as an individual or a man. I accepted the apology and he and I are on good terms now.

After leaving I got about 7 or 8 messages from people asking about it. Literally nothing travels faster than gossip in the comedy community. I love all of my fellow comics, and I love all of you laydees/baybees!!!

This was a dramatic but fun night. Tonight I”m off to Baltimore and can’t wait to hopefully have a good show. I’ll be back to recap tomorrow. LOVE YOU LAYDEES!!!!! xoxoxo KISSES!!!

#comedy #love #jokes #halloween #Calvin and hobbes #improv #open mic #hilarious #yelling #fight

0 notes