Onward to greener pastures

Bounding out of Detroit, we had two options for reaching Burlington, Vermont. We could cut through Canada and get there in 10 hours or loop around Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New York in 12. The choice was easy. We were set to drink Molson and egregiously overuse “Eh?” with our neighbors to the North until we remembered our passports were in Philly.

We’re actually glad we took the long route - it led us past an amazing truck stop called Betty Beavers. The mascot was a patriotic beaver with enormous 3D tits, so really we had to stop. Whoever made the decision to fabricate 3D breasts on the sign is a hero. He gave courage to the throngs of weirdos out there who feel rodents need to be sexier.

Pit stop

After 10 hours we stopped in an anonymous northeastern New York town to rest. It was one of those dreary little burgs that appear in every episode of COPS. Every home looked like a converted meth lab, and as per usual our lodging was a veritable opium den.

Right after checking in we went to the van to grab our stuff, and sure enough, a scabby couple slid out of a rusted jalopy right next to us. We exchanged a look that sarcastically conveyed “I wonder if they’re high on heroin”. Before we could finish that thought, the woman began vomiting in the street.

With that, we decided to grab dinner. We weren’t expecting many options in this tiny place, but after traveling to a million cities and towns we’ve realized this one truism: every town worth its salt has a Chinese restaurant and/or an Irish pub.

We only had to walk a single block before spotting a sign with a glowing Great Wall. The shop, though clearly not a palace as labeled, was the only thing open in the strip mall. Flashing neon lights drew us in like moths to flame.

After dinner, we went back to our dingy little hovel and got a terrible night's sleep. It wasn’t all bad, though - we got free breakfast (stale bread and spoiled orange juice).

Guest or pest

Some may ask - well if you don’t like hotels that much, why don’t you stay with friends? We do, but we don’t have friends in every single state. That would be great, but oftentimes it’s not an option. And anyway, crummy hotels are occasionally better than friends houses.

Staying at friends houses is amazing most of the time … but it can be a bit awkward. People are rummaging around at all hours of the night. You can’t sleep. You don’t really want to take a shit. You don’t know if you’re being a bother and they’re just being polite. You don’t have a key, so you stay when they stay, leave when they leave, and eat when they eat. You’re basically their smelly new pet.

A-maze-ing

We finally got to Burlington on a shitty, rainy Saturday. The show was in a labyrinthine building that used to be a factory. Rain was pouring down as we scurried in circles around the building, searching desperately for the door that led to the ‘comedy club’ suite. We started pounding on any and all doors to ask where the hell this place was, and no one had even heard of it. We were about to give up when we saw people who looked like comics enter a tiny back alley door. We followed them and sure enough, they were comedians.

The show was a monthly showcase, and it was one of the smallest shows we did on our entire cross country trip. With the shitty weather, the only people who bothered to come out were a lady (the host), and two dudes. With Dan and I, the grand total of this packed, sold out affair was a whopping FIVE.

The host told us she was an improv’er but agreed to host the mic for a friend who was sick. Of the other two in attendance, one guy was an aspiring standup/ventriloquist, and the other guy said he was just there to speak into a microphone (and he wasn’t kidding). It was definitely not what we expected for a Saturday showcase in Vermont's biggest city, but that’s the way it goes sometimes.

Showtime

With such a small turnout, there was no point in running any ‘tested’ material. We used our time to comment on the venue, the town, the people in attendance, and anything to make the show real. We also tried out half-baked bits to determine if they had legs.

We found out after the show that everyone in Burlington was at a comedy competition down the road - something like ‘Vermont’s funniest person’. Apparently about 60 people were competing, which explained why this show and the city in general felt like a ghost town.

After saying our goodbyes we began our journey to Fairfield, CT.