Went to the Comedy Cellar in NYC yesterday and had 2 pineapple juices and a water to cover the 2 drink minimum over the course of a couple hours while watching a range of classic NY comics. Colin Quinn was a headlining act and was his usual self. After his bit was over he headed out and couldn’t find his coat. He was rummaging around the ones set in front of me and my group of friends when I told him he did a good job compared to his usual crap. He chuckled at my hilarious dry witted compliment and asked if the coat he was trying to decide was his, was in fact any of ours. I told him to just take it since it wasn’t mine and after the bonding experience thought it would be appropriate to take a picture or make out or something.
So we ducked into the hall outside the main room and snapped a quick photo and exchanged a couple more lines of soulfully meaningful dialog, mostly consisting of how soft his hands were (he grazed mine during the picture taking and I complimented their supple nature. he moisturizes. good man).
the gf, Colin Quinn, some random ass photobomber and me
He left and we went back inside and I never heard from him again.
No call. No flowers. No nothin. But whatever. I can take it. I’m awesome like that.
Colin gets a bad rap from his critics cuz he’s a line stumbling bastard, but I’ve always liked him a lot. I think the only moment that was better than those I shared with him was earlier in the day when we were able to meet and talk to the guy who plays some kind of guitar looking stringed instrument on the subway.
asians sometimes have difficulty looking forward
Just as we did with Colin: we wasted his time, took a picture with him and left without giving him any money.
These were truly beautiful moments.
But ya. Colin Quinn. Nice guy. Soft hands.
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