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David Blaine

 

Where Were You In My Time Of Need?

Last Sunday, I sent a text message to every New Yorker I know which read:

Let’s go get drunk and torment David Blaine.

Unfortunately, none of you lazy bastards came with me. I did go and see David Blaine that night, but I didn’t torment him. I thought about pressing a sign up to the glass bubble that read:

You’re Never Going To Break The Record! You’re Houdini’s Little Bitch!

I didn’t do that though, and even if I wanted to, his security guards probably would’ve frowned upon that sort of thing. I would’ve done it though if someone had come with me. Like Aldous Huxley once said, “The quality of moral behavior varies in inverse ratio to the number of human beings involved.”

Owen, Lloyd, and Tommy

Owen, Lloyd, and Tommy, three of the bartenders at Down The Hatch, also went to go see David Blaine. Owen suggested that they roll David Blaine up to Spanish Harlem and then see how long he survives. Lloyd was drunk. He asked one of David Blaine’s security guards, “What did you do, take the 8 Minute David Blaine Security Course?” He then got down on his knees and pretended to lick David Blaine’s balls. Owen took a picture of this, and you can see David Blaine looking down at Lloyd with a “What the fuck?” look on his face. I saw the picture, and if it doesn’t end up in Time Magazine’s Photos Of The Year issue, I swear that I will move to a different country. Tommy asked one of the security guards, “If I shake the bubble, will it start snowing in there?”

Owen, Lloyd, and Tommy. Three of God’s most special children.

Tough Sell

My father also sells life insurance. He rose up really far in the corporate world, but it wasn’t because of his knowledge of current events. When I told him that I saw David Blaine last Sunday, he responded by asking, “Did you sell him anything?” Without missing a beat, I said, “Well, I tried to, but the only problem was that he was in a big glass bubble!”

“Oh…that guy.”

I would’ve earned the title of The World’s Most Persistent Salesman if I had tried to sell David Blaine a policy. I would’ve had to put on scuba diving equipment. “Hey David. How are you? Listen, you’re probably going to die soon, so it would be a good idea for you to buy a life insurance policy. Let’s see…you’re a 33 year-old non-smoker. A basic $10,000 burial policy for someone your age would be about $11.80 a month. You can make that check out to the Knights Of Columbus…oh wait. You don’t have your checkbook on you, do you?”

Anguish

     “You really let me down.”

-Pat McGuire Band “Going To the Desert”

When David Blaine came out of the tank, his doctors told him not to go back in. Blaine refused, saying, “I didn’t want to let the people down.” What kind of narcissistic bullshit is that? Hey asshole, I have no emotional stake in whether or not you can hold your breath! “David Blaine was able to hold his breath for only seven minutes instead of nine. Since then, I’ve fallen into such a deep depression that I quit my job. I’ve turned to drinking, which caused my wife and kids to leave me. In fact, I’m going to have one more beer, after which, I will start to compose my suicide note.” Have you heard anyone say this? No, you haven’t . Do you know why? Because no one gives a shit! If David Blaine let anyone down, it’s because he didn’t die.

Insane In The Memblaine

I’ve come to the conclusion that I will be the next David Blaine. My opinion of David Blaine is that the man is a lunatic. However, I used to feel the same way about the Coney Island Polar Bear Club. I also used to feel the same way about people who breathe fire. Used to. Mark my words: right now, it’s an idea that seems dangerous and stupid to me, but within two years, I will most likely be trapped inside of a block of ice in Times Square.

cc: The Boy In The Bubble

May 19, 2006

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