I used to work in offices a lot.
And the last job I had, I got through a temp agency.
They called me on a Friday and said
they had an assignment for me starting the following Monday.
And it had been a while since I worked in an office,
so I thought I should probably do something over the weekend
to prepare to get back into all the typing and filing
and phone answering and whatnot.
So what I did is I had a friend of mine go with me
down to the local swimming pool,
and I had him tie me up in a burlap sack
and sink me to the bottom of the pool.
(laughter)
And then right when I was about to suffocate,
he yanked me up and gave me a lunch break.
(crowd cheering)
No.
That was... (laughs)
Well...
that's very, very sweet.
You might be overreacting. Uh...
Um, at that job, for one project...
Their whole-- the building--
the whole basement was just file cabinets.
So for one project, they had me go down there
and I filed every day, all day, for two weeks straight.
And at the end of that two weeks,
it finally occurred to me I'd probably be better off
if I just went ahead and joined a cult.
Because at least in a cult,
when they suck the life force out of you,
they throw in some group sex and a weird haircut.
And that's kind of fun.
There was a period of time between odd jobs
and starting to make a living with, um, stand-up
where I thought about
changing careers and maybe becoming a motivational speaker.
And I had this idea for a seminar
that I could give called
"The Encounters with Depression Power Weekend."
And there were gonna be three, uh, classes.
And at-- the first one is called "Potato Chips: Friend or Foe?"
Um... the second one
was "Going Outside and Other Tales of Courage."
And then the last one was called
"Sleeping It Off:
It's Never Too Early to Go Back to Bed."
So...
Well...
Thanks, guys. Um...
You might not be able to tell because I'm up
on an elevated stage, but I'm actually quite short.
And, um, I don't mind being short.
It's not a problem most of the time.
There's one thing that is a problem, which is
there's a segment of the population
that believes that short adults
remain childlike, in that
we enjoy the sensation of being lifted off our feet.
And, um, I feel totally comfortable
speaking for every short person in the world
in saying we don't like that at all.
We don't like being picked up.
Don't... do not pick up a fellow adult,
no matter how short they are.
It's really uncomfortable.
Um, it's never like the movies where you're like, "Whee!"
It's always like you're-- they almost drop you.
Um... and then, like,
your shirt pulls up in the back.
Um...
It's really...
It's actually traumatic, um, when I remember it.
There's one exception to that rule.
There's one time where I think
it's okay with short people if you pick them up.
And that's-- this is how that scenario goes.
You see someone coming towards you
with the intention to pick you up.
And it's usually a guy.
And it's almost always someone who's had a few drinks.
And you put your hand out. You're like, "Stop.
"Don't do it. I don't want you to pick me up.
Do not do that."
And he ignores you and comes in and picks you up anyway
and then grunts in pain
because you're heavier than he expected you to be.
If it ends with a trip to urgent care,
then it's totally fine to pick up a short person.
Otherwise, don't do it.