Turns out PFT (which I can call him now because I know so much about him, like we're basically best friends) has this thing called the "Tompkins 300" wherein, if a city can muster 300 residents to pledge attendance at a show, PFT will book a show there. It started one year ago yesterday, the first show being in Toronto (a Toronto comedian named Bob Kerr organized the first Tompkins 300 Facebook pledge group, inspiring the project) and has since expanded all over North America, and even to faraway places like Denmark and Australia (check out the Tompkins 300 Map).
It sounded like a cool concept, so I bought two tickets on spec, figuring "dude, I've got two months, I'll find someone to come to the show with me!" Well, of course, I procrastinated, and when it came time to ask the people I thought most likely to accompany me, they were all busy/not interested.
Not wanting to lose $25, I took to Twitter to try to find a taker for the second ticket. First, I tweeted at PFT himself to see if he could re-tweet my offer to the masses, but he was probably on a flight or something. But while doing this I stumbled onto his Twitter page, which shows all the other people who have tweeted at him, and one such person was desperately looking for tickets. So on Saturday, I tweeted to this guy, Greg, that I had an extra ticket and that he should e-mail me on Sunday to figure things out. He replied that he was looking for two so he could bring his girlfriend, but would take just the one if that's what it came down to.
Upon waking up on Sunday, I had an e-mail about the tickets waiting in my inbox. Partially due to the fact that I wasn't sure what Greg's real name was because his Twitter name didn't make it immediately obvious and partially due to the fact that I was drowsy, having just woken up, I just blindly assumed the e-mail was from Greg. It wasn't - it was from a different guy named Steve, who, apparently, had also been on PFT's Twitter page, and had followed the paper trail to get my e-mail address. So I e-mailed him back confirming that I still had an extra ticket, not realizing that I was now promising him my ticket.
I was in and out of the house throughout the day commuting between three different tutoring appointments, and sometime in the afternoon I called Steve to figure things out. At this point I had decided I was kind of ambivalent to going to the show, and if he wanted the second ticket for his girlfriend, he could have it, but if he didn't, I would happily go to the show. Steve was confused by this since, remember, he wasn't the guy with the girlfriend. So he said he just needed one, and I assumed his girlfriend had dropped out.
Shortly thereafter I got an e-mail from Greg asking about the ticket, and that's when it dawned on me that I was dealing with two different people. I called Greg up and had to apologize for promising my second ticket to a guy I thought was him, when it could have gone to his girlfriend, but told him I'd still get him the one ticket. He was cool about it; I think he was just appreciative to get any ticket.
So I headed down to the Rivoli around 9 to meet the guys. I didn't have physical tickets; I just had my name on a list. So after meeting Steve and while waiting for Greg I went downstairs to make sure these two guys could go in on my reservation. The girl at the door seemed confused by the situation, so I half-heartedly explained ("I accidentally sold both my tickets to two different guys, not realizing they were different people" (in retrospect, my subconscious did a great job of explaining this in the most pitiable way possible even though at this point I was planning on not going to the show and was not especially disappointed about it)), and she was like "dude, I can get you in, no problem". Cool! So it all worked out - Greg and Steve would both get to go to the show, and so would I, though I still felt bad for Greg's girlfriend.
A few minutes later Greg showed up with his girlfriend, which was kind of awkward because I had screwed up when I could have gotten her a ticket, so I tried to mend things by explaining that the girl at the door would sneak me in and maybe we could get the same deal for her. Greg seemed concerned, asking if I still had a ticket for him. After assuring him I did, he was like "ohh, no problem! We scalped a ticket for (his girlfriend)". I guess they had showed up for the early show and found someone selling an extra! Now it had really all worked out.
Well, that's it for the tedious procedural details, which, as you should know by now, make up the bulk of Xave's Xlog. There were a couple short opening acts, which were okay, and then PFT did what seemed like an extremely long set, although I'm not sure because I've never specifically bought tickets for a stand-up comedian before - only "Friday night at Absolute Comedy!" or whatever.
It was great! PFT is hilarious. Aside from 20 or 30 minutes of "riffing", which he made a point to comment on (the act of riffing, I mean - he kept being like "okay, enough riffing, gotta get on to the material", and then not doing it because he was struck by something else to riff on, or something, and it was amazing), he basically told his life story starting from dropping out of college because he knew he wanted to be a comedian, working a couple of terrible jobs at video stores, meeting Paul Thomas Anderson and subsequently all the famous people in Magnolia, getting his scene (but not voice) cut from Magnolia (Magnolia: "a movie where everyone in the phonebook starts talking to each other"), PTA repaying the favour by giving him a tiny part in There Will Be Blood through to his hosting gig on the show Best Week Ever, which ran for four and a half years or so. I thought it was a unique approach; of course comedians talk about their life, but it's usually bits and pieces rather than an hour-long narrative. Of course it was hilarious also.
If you want to check PFT out a little more, he's got a couple albums, and he recently started a podcast, entitled the Pod F. Tompkast, which I think is ingenious, even though it may seem cutesy and somewhat obvious, but it's become one of those phrases that I just keep repeating in my head. Pod F. Tompkast. Pod F. Tompkast. Hilarious. See, you're doing it now.
After the show, the bar gave away promotional posters for free, which were actually really nice, and PFT set up a table to sell CDs and sign stuff, so Greg, his girlfriend, Steve and I got a chance to meet the man, and he even laughed at a couple of my jokes, genuinely or not. (I also discovered his scene in There Will Be Blood is the first scene with dialogue, which if I recall correctly is like 15 or 20 minutes into the movie, in case you want to check it out.)
In case you can't read it, it says "Dave! A good Samaritan!"
