Mr. Q

Day: Two Hundred and Two

Photo taken on Saturday, February 19, 2011 outside of the Helen Hayes Theater on 44th Street in NYC at 334pm.

It is late August 2003 and my cell phone is ringing. It is sitting in front of me on Christine's coffee table and Christine is poised on the couch to my left looking at it wondering if I can hear it too. I let it go to voicemail and keep watching the SNL rerun on Comedy Central as I eat my lunch in between classes. Suddenly our landline starts to ring and it too sits in front of me on the coffee table but I don't budge. Christine sits forward and points at it, "Are you going to get that?"

I swing my eyes over to her and very casually state, "Colin Quinn is on." My eyes then swing back and I continue to eat quietly. Christine sits back on the couch and just accepts that her new roommate of two weeks is absolutely insane. By the end of the month she orders another cable box so I can tape Col and still lead a normal college life by going out with her at night rather than sit at home watching Tough Crowd at 1230.

I love Colin Quinn though some people may see it as an unhealthy obsession.

I seriously think my world would end if I missed an episode of Tough Crowd and since I don't watch the news, I find Colin and the gang's views on top stories to be sufficient enough to stay current. I absolutely adore him and his writing. I even enjoy when he delivers a joke terribly because it leads to him ridiculing himself which makes it even funnier. I like him so much that whenever I am home from college, I make it a mission to get into the city to catch a live recording of his show. I even wear my "Save Tough Crowd" tee shirt to the last taping even though it doesn't help save it in the end.

I am so mad at myself on January 8th because in the five months that his Broadway show Long Story Short has been out, I did not get my ass down to the theater. And I even work in the freaking city! I saw Colin Quinn more times in The Cellar when I lived 2,000 miles away then I have now that I live back home. I ought to be ashamed of myself.

But on Valentine's Day Eve, Steve hands me an envelope that says:

February 19, 2011! FRONT ROW!!!

As I open it I try to think of different musicals I may have mentioned. I know I told him about the Alan Rickman play showing in Brooklyn, maybe it's that-

I pull out a paper and all I see is my boy in one of his awkward stances and I am beside myself talking a mile a minute. "Ithoughtthiswasover?!OhmyGod,Iamsosurprised!Youtotallygotme!Wait-this ended over a month ago, how did you get tickets?"

Apparently it has been extended to March and if you are available this week and live in the vicinity...GO! Go NOW! I'll telling you, I have never been so impressed with Quinn as I am in the 75 minutes it takes him to do the history of the world. He is clever and funny, the writing has a fluidity I haven't seen in a long time from a comedian, and he's just all around GOOD!

But there is one tiny thing that gets me. As I'm watching him walk all over the stage and holding my breath as he clumsily climbs the stairs, he seems familiar. I'm following his flamboyant hand gestures which are so utterly Colin Quinn but something finally occurs to me. After he does his final bow I turn to Steve to get his take on the play. "Besides you liking it did you notice something about his gestures and the way he acted out his story?"

Steve completely hits the nail on the head. He totally spots it too. I just substituted one while the other was absent.

I think I finally understand my unhealthy obsession with Cal Lightman.