Whereas I send emails every Christmas that say Bah Humbug Please Stop Contacting Me, comedian Steve Altman always comes up with a card that doesn't contain bile.
Bing Crosby, Steve Altman, Mary and Santa Claus cross Abbey Road. Steve and I met at a club around San Diego years ago. The Owner of this particular shit hole put us up in separate condos and then later paid for all my drinks. He also offered to buy me a massage from His Massage Girl, as long as he could watch. Yeah, that's a normal part of a standup comic's career.
I turned The Owner down. Well, not the drinks part.
That entire weekend poor Steve ran interference for me with The Owner, who stuck to me like an uncancelled stamp you're trying to soak off an envelope. He said he would be glad to help me with my jokes and had I considered wearing shorter skirts on stage?
Yeah, yet another normal part of my job, short skirts.
To punish me for not returning his attentions, on the last night he wouldn’t pay me after my set until after Steve’s part of the show was over. Steve always did an hour and sometimes went longer. I had a lengthy drive back to L.A. so I begged The Owner to please pay me so I could go. I called my agent at 11 pm and begged him to talk some sense into this clown. My agent declined. THANKS! The Owner finally paid me after he deducted the cost of all the drinks he had bought me that first night.
Our business is so full of classy people and no MEN DON'T HAVE THESE PROBLEMS WHEN THEY PERFORM.
Steve has loads of extra talent, as you can see from this clip.
