My Best Stuff

I’d always wanted to do stand-up. My family was funny. Dad was so quick; his words would be in the next county before the cousins got the joke.

This was my moment. I had an audience, the coveted captive kind.  They were laughing, crying and choking. Everything I said was killer, even the words that slurred worked.

I used my best stuff. The teenage couple “lost” in the woods. A priest, a pastor and  a rabbi go fishing.

Then she cut me off. “The anesthesia will wear off in a few minutes. You can have visitors in an hour or so.”