Houston, we have a....cue card?

Howdy folks. First and foremost - no, I didn't make it onto the show. In fact, I never made it past a production assistant. But we had a lot of fun.

Josh and I hit the road Thursday nite around 7. I couldn't decide what to wear so I threw a bunch of things in the washer. Of course, they weren't quite dry when Josh arrived, so I just tossed them into the car and hung them around in different areas to dry on the way down. I called my friend Michael to get the scoop - he had been in Houston since 2 PM and there was already a line of 30-40 people. Not bad. The drive down was cool, we stopped at some little place to gas up and get snacks and we made the clerk laugh. Good, we're on.

I got us lost when we got into Houston. Ok, not really lost, per se, but the highways were so ridiculously ripped apart that we couldn't seem to find the road that led to the Improv. And yes, I lived in Houston for 8 years. Nevermind that.

We arrived at the Improv around 11 PM. We saw some familiar faces, staked our claim on a lovely chunk of sidewalk, and settled in for the nite. There was an unofficial list being kept so we put our names down - at that point we were numbers 77 and 78. There was much wondering around and talking to people. At 2 AM I needed to sleep, so I hopped in the back of Josh's Element where he had put a large air mattress. I slept for about an hour and a half, and apparently I missed all the fun. Next door to the Improv was a dance club, and the drunks started pouring out right after I hit the bed. I heard tales of pierced nipples, drunk girls falling into the bushes, and midget hand springs. (I think that last part was false.)

I woke up in a daze at around 4 am, in desperate need of a bathroom. Nothing was open, and no one wanted to leave their spot to drive anywhere, so I had to pee next to a dumpster. Not one of my finer moments, but hey, this is reality, right? It was an emergency.

The camera crews started arriving around 8 AM; as did the people who weren't required to wait in line. And that's about the time I figured out that none of us suckers who were sleeping on the sidewalk had a shot in hell at this show. People who have agents got pre-arranged appointments to see the judges. The rest of us were really just there to make 'reality tv' look, well, real. We were there to hoot and holler when the camera guy came running down the line. When the show airs in the spring, I'm sure they'll make it look like there were hundreds and hundredes of people in line, but actually there were, at the most, maybe 200.

Bill Bellamy from BET was our 'line host'. He did quick interviews with some of the people who were waiting. But for his opening bit, he had cue cards - and it took him 4 takes to get it right. And during each of the 4 takes, we, the suckers, were required to cheer and yell as the cameraman ran down the line. After about the second time, I was all out of 'woos' and just sat back down.

At 9, the PA's (production assistants) started handing out applications for us to fill out. At that point it all became just a huge clusterfuck. Numbers and places in line didn't matter anymore. We weren't given any instructions. In fact, they really didn't talk to us at all, and when we asked a question, we were basically ignored.

There was one guy who was in charge of taking Polaroid pics of each person and attaching them to their application. No one told us about this, I just happened to see him and ask if I needed a photo. He took mine, it was really cute, and they started taking people inside in groups of 8. Not in number or arrival order, just at random. I happened to be standing near the front door when they were calling in the next group. The guy told me to come in. I told him my number was 103. He said it didn't matter, just come in.

So there we were - me and 7 others who had been waiting patiently for a chance to dazzle the judges with our quick wit and amazing punch lines - and we are greeted by some girl sitting behind a table in the lobby of the Improv. She asks us to place our applications on the table, and we comply. And then she tells us how it's going to be: "Introduce yourself, tell me something weird or interesting that I can remember you by, and start your set. You get 30 seconds."

30 seconds? We drove 4 hours and slept on the sidewalk all nite for 30 seconds in front of a PA? What's wrong with this picture?

I volunteered to go first - and I honestly don't think this chick heard anything I said. She was too busy shuffling thru papers and picking stuff up off the floor to listen to me. I told one joke. She said keep going, all the while giving me the "Uh-huh, uh-huh" of someone not paying attention. I watched each of the next 7 folks go thru the same thing, and then we were rushed out the door with promises of phone calls by 1:30 PM. I knew it was over at that point. I felt a lot like Stewie on that episode of Family Guy when he runs away to live on Jolly Farm in England, the television show he loves. But when he gets there, the TV magic is gone and he realizes that reality and TV are very different.

So, to sum up the whole experience: Road trip was fun, met some new people, saw some folks I hadn't seen in a couple of years, really did have a good time. And I learned a little something about 'reality TV'. "Open auditions" for Last Comic Standing are bullshit. Unless you are already on the 'list', you will not get to see a judge, a producer, or anyone of any decision-making capacity. And I want to take a dump in Mother Maggie's shoes.