I was grateful when my friend suggested dinner and stand-up comedy downtown on Friday night. Valentine’s Day found me yet again single — not even mildly attached or vaguely dating anyone — which at least meant that I didn’t feel compelled to change out of my hiking boots. I’d worn them, plus at least three layers including a tattered camping vest, for the three days of the snowpacolypse.
We trudged into The Millroom after dinner at Asheville Pizza and Brewing Company, where I found my friend drinking the special Ninja Love Porter. In a dour mood, I went for the Ashevillain Black IPA – a half pint, so my glass really would be as half-empty as I felt.
I can now say that thanks to The Millroom and The Valentine’s Day Comedy Show with Andy Woodhull and Gilbert Lawand, I am no longer as tempted to stand in the path of (Ok) Cupid’s arrow.
From the host — Grayson Morris, a self-professed impoverished local artist — to headliner Andy Woodhull, each comic expounded on their less-than-uplifting experiences with internet romance. Morris described her experiences with dating sites as worse than she could have had a nightmare about, finally concluding that as a single woman in Asheville, if you want to find a man with a beard who might go out with you once, but isn’t looking for a relationship, then you’re in the right spot. Then again, there is no wrong spot for that in this town.
Woodhull focused on his experiences as a new stepfather, moving in with his wife who has two daughters from a previous marriage. He said as he unpacked boxes of his belongings, loading dishes into the cabinets, he found his new spouse scowling at him, scorning the plates he had bought when he was living with another woman. He paused that classic comic pause. He could see where she was coming from, he said, because he felt she, too, may have kept some reminders from a past relationship. He pointed out however that at least his dishes didn’t “look a little bit like his ex-girlfriend, or go spend every other weekend in her kitchen.”
Dating. Marriage. At least we can laugh about it. This Valentine’s Day, I sat with a friend eating chocolate that I bought for myself (favorite kind every time!) and laughing my butt off (it has since grown back). If you’re happily dating, or if you’re happily single, or if you’re mad about either one of those situations, I recommend some laughter therapy.