Friday, September 21, 2007

A funny story from my past...

I have my audition today...(aren't you curious to know what it is for?) I have to come in with a funny story so this is the story I'm going to tell them...

This happened to me in college, my first or second year, and I had this house with a friend of mine which had a gas fireplace. At the time I was acting in a production of Romeo & Juliet and trying to grow a beard for the show. I was dating this girl for about two months. We had yet to have sex, yet, though…and I was planning this big night for us…I was going to cook her dinner, watch a romantic movie, and she would stay the night…My roommate was going to be gone that night and I got all dressed up. I put some laid back guitar music on and then she came over. I cooked chicken marsala and lit some candles and poured some wine. I had never actually lit a gas fireplace ever, in my life, but for some reason I thought tonight would be a good night to try. I said, "Hey, lets take our wine over by the fireplace."

So I turn on the gas and I try to light a match. It doesn’t light. So I try it again. And again. I just can’t get the stupid thing to light and this girl is kind of laughing at me…

And meanwhile the gas is going hisssssssssssss….

And then I finally light a match and reach my hand into the fireplace to light the fire.


A huge fireball explodes in my face. I freak out. The highest pitch scream I’ve ever made is coming out of my body and it frightens me almost as much as the fact that I think I'm on fire, my eyeballs are melting or that I'm going to be disfigured for life. My hands are patting myself down and I'm backing away. She screams. Then I catch my breathe, realizing that I'm not on fire. I can still see. It's okay. Until a searing burning sensation creeps onto my face. Like a really intense sunburn. I go look in the mirror and see my beard and eyebrows singed.

Then to make matters worse, she takes me not to the ER of the closest hospital but all the way across town, like a forty minute drive, because they have a special burn unit. Now I’m pissed for several reason 1) I'm obviously not getting laid tonight and 2) my face hurts more and more every passing minute and 3) it’s 8 o’clock at night and I’m pretty sure the burn unit probably deals with real emergencies, like people stuck in burning buildings or reconstructive surgery. So I really want to yell at her to go to the closest ER but I don’t because I’m afraid she’s going to not take me at all. It turns out I’m right. We go to their ER where they X-ray my lungs because they think I might’ve “swallowed some of the flame” and then after they tell me its not really that bad and to put this ointment on it.

We broke up about a week later. We never had sex. And I had to shave my beard.

But luckily my eyebrows did grow back. Who knew they were so resilient.

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