Fodder stories

There’s a podcast that completely fascinates me, the same way that Planet Earth might fascinate you when you’re on mushrooms. It’s called The Champs – I’m certain I’ve mentioned it before— and it’s hosted by two intriguingly fucked-up comedians and features a black guest. I guess the reason I’m so taken by this particular podcast is the way they speak so honestly about women and getting laid. Like, when I die and go to heaven and finally get a chance to listen in on all the conversations that had ever been had about me by guys I’ve hooked up with, particularly comedians, I imagine they will take a similar tone to the banter on this podcast. In that, it’s a tiny bit degrading, explicit and completely entertaining. I really suggest you listen.

Anyhow, on the latest episode, they talk at length about how to get sex on the road as a touring comedian. Tactics range from going to a local mall and inviting the girl at the makeup counter to your show, to chatting up the young lady who’s come with one other (female) friend. Their stories reminded me of an off-handed comment my mother made recently about the time a comedian hit on her in the 80s. It goes to show that as long as comedians have been making people laugh, they have also wanted to sleep with pretty strangers who come to see them perform. I decided to ask my mother some question to get the female perspective on this “phenomenon.”

Me: So a comedian tried to pick you up after one of his shows a few decades ago. Which one was it?

Rosa Lev: Jackie Mason.

Me: I know the name. Who is he?

RL: He’s a Jewish comedian who was very popular in the 60s, I think, I’ll have to look it up. He was trying to do a comeback so he was playing a small show in Toronto. I had never heard of him but my friends, who were much older than me, knew him from their youth. It’s very Jewish humour. So they took me.

Me: Was he funny?

RL: Yeah, it was really funny. I think he was rehearsing material for a show he was doing on Broadway, and then turned it into a CD or something. He did really well with that material. But there was no one at the club when we went to see him. It was me, the older couple I went with, and maybe two other people. It was really empty and I felt embarrassed for him. But he was really funny, we laughed our heads off, which is hard when you’re in a small, almost empty venue. He was basically talking right to us.

Me: So he was engaging with you?

RL: He did his material and when he was finished he asked if he could join our table. He asked my friends if I was their daughter, since he was around their age. They said no, that I was their friend. He asked if I was from Toronto. I said yeah. Then he asked what I was doing later that night.

Me: And?

RL: My friends said “We’re going to take her right home.” Then he moved on.

Me: How did you feel?

RL: We laughed about it.

Me: Were you flattered?

RL: Not really. How many people were there in the audience? And I was the youngest one by far. He was only interested in me because I was the youngest?

Me: Mom, you’re being modest, you were a power babe. I mean, you still are, but come on, you were a hot piece of ass. (Eds note: I’ve attached a photo below of my mom, a former model, when she was younger to hammer home this point.)

RL: Well, there wasn’t a lot of variety at the club that night. He didn’t have a lot to choose from.

Me:  It’s probably a good idea you didn’t go home with a comedian. Not only because you were happily married with two children but because you probably would have ended up as fodder. Instead, it ended up being the other way around. He ended up as your fodder. Or at the very least, he gave me fodder to blog about this week. I’d be skimped otherwise. Thanks Mom!

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