I do a joke about the fact that I think God is trying to kill me. It was based on the fact that I keep having these weird situations where I come very close to death. (i.e. Shootings, Hit by cars, federal Agent pulling a gun on my cab)

But I think I’ve pissed off who ever is in charge of the whole creating thing.

November 28th, 2006.
I’m at my day gig. My boss, in order to continue to make me realize how insignificant I am, and how stupid I was for leaving my nice corporate job to pursue comedy, made me take stuff to the Laundromat. I am, in fact, there bitch-boy. I do so, but I decide to make a quick stop at the pharmacy. I’m on-line waiting to get my shiznit and I notice an advertisement on the above monitor. Its for a diabetic machine that checks your glucose levels without stabbing you.

And for those playing at home, I’m diabetic.

So I’m like, HELL YEAH for the non stabbing me machine. When I get to the front of the line I ask the clerk how much the machine is and she tells me to hold on, because since she works there, she OBVIOUSLY doesn’t know how much the crap is. She then returns to the counter, about 30 seconds later and tells me they don’t even sell what they’re advertising. (Quick Note: The premise of advertising something you don’t actually sell was used in the very first joke I ever wrote. I’m still annoyed as hell at it) I’m like what-evs, just give me my shit.

I leave the Pharmacy and I’m walking down Washington Avenue in Prospect heights, Right before I get to St. Johns, I hear a loud pop.

Now I’m from the hood(Bed-Stuy, STAND-UP!) so I’m used to gun-fire. But I’m also aware that cars backfire, kids play with m-80’s and other shit makes noise. So basically it takes me a seconds to even react to the sound.

Then I see the dude across the street from me with the Gun stuck out of the window of his car.

Now, If you’ve read my blog, or seen my stand-up, you’re probably aware that I was shot when I was 14. Now a Major part of that story is that I was fired upon twice. First shot? I just froze and stared. Second shot? In the face. So after such an experience I should be more alert and prepared for something like that again.

Ha.

I see the gun firing. I see the dude who’s running from said gun fire and he’s only about 20 yards a head of me. Everyone starts to run and scramble and duck and basically try to protect themselves.

Me? I stand there in shock. No trying to find cover. Just…standing there.

There was a dry cleaners right next to me. I look over to the door, considering maybe I should go in. This particular thought was 86ed when the lady who was inside immediately locked her door. THANKS LADY. THEY’RE FRICKEN SHOOTING OUT HERE!

The car speeds off and then It’s all good. I start to walk forward and right when I get to where the guy who was being shot at started to run from, something clicks in my head. It took me about 30 seconds to walk to where he was.

The 30 seconds it took for the clerk to find out she didn’t sell the diabetes machine I wanted.

Had I not asked for it, I would have been right where the dude was. And me being Freezey McStay-in-on-place guy I would have been a prime target.

So a message for the universe/supreme being/God(ess). I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done. Seriously, please stop with the attempts on my life. I still have jokes to tell.

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