“This way,” a kid with a headset says to him and points him toward another kid with a headset. Spence goes where he is pointed. One hallway, then another. He walks past picture frames on the wall of Jay Leno and random celebrities, framed posters of popular sitcoms and TV shows.
“Follow me.” A random staffer all in black leads him into a room and puts him into a chair in front of a huge mirror. He’s only had a couple of pulls off that flask but wonders if he’s already drunk. It’s all going by so fast. The place is like a machine. He smiles and shrugs and tries to act like it’s all no big deal to him. He does this every day. He’s used to this sort of thing. Legendary late-night talk shows are old hat, as far as he’s concerned.
He’s only in the building a few minutes before someone is applying makeup to him. The last time he did TV was some local news interview in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. There was no makeup. They just put him in front of the camera as is. The news anchor looked tan and healthy, while he sat next to her and looked like a heroin junkie. By the time The Tonight Show makeup woman is through with him, he looks like he lives there in California.
The makeup person is speaking to him, but Spence doesn’t hear her. She’s polite and friendly and asking him questions he somehow seems to be answering. But he’s lost in his material. He’s thinking of his act and what he wants to say. He’s going over the bits in his head as if any of it has changed at all in the past two and a half weeks. He smiles and he talks to the people around him, but he’s not really there.
“Is he ready?” a kid in a headset asks the makeup person who says that he is. The kid checks him out and then crooks a finger. “Follow me.”
Spence follows the kid down the hallway and back into the green room. Wearing a Tonight Show T-shirt and blue jeans, the kid couldn’t be older than twenty-one or so. But he rushes around with a serious look on his face as if he’s twice that age. Looking at this kid, Spence doesn’t feel quite as old as he did when he first got to LA. He wonders if working behind the scenes in TV ages a person faster. Maybe the kid is pushing forty but has years of California sun and Botox to thank for his youthful appearance.
Spence takes a seat in the green room and tries to look like he’s not having an anxiety attack. He pretends to be reading Variety magazine and acting as if he’s just hanging out. This is completely normal. He always hangs out in the green room of The Tonight Show.
Two minutes feels like twenty. An Asian man ten years younger than he is walks in the room and sits down. The guy is a TV star. He’s been all over the place. A year ago he was nobody, and now he’s got some cop show that is a huge hit. Kung Fu: Reborn or something like that. Sitting across the green room, his legs folded and his sunglasses on, the celebrity nods his head toward Spence and smiles.
“How’s it going?” the TV star says to him.
“Oh, you know,” Spence answers and smiles. The TV star smiles back.
“Just another day at the office, right?” the TV star says and looks over the top of his sunglasses.
“Yeah.” Spence laughs. “Sure.”
“Comedian?”
“Yep.”
“Cool,” the star says. “I’m an actor. David Nguyen.”
The TV star extends his hand. Spence smiles and shakes it. “Yeah, I know who you are. I’m Spence.”
“Cool,” David says. “I love stand-up.”
“Cool.”
“First time on the show?”
“This is it,” Spence says and raises his eyebrows.
“Very cool,” David says. “I’m sure you’ll be great.”
“Hope so.”
“No worries, man,” David says, “no worries.”
Spence holds up his fingers and shows David that they are crossed. David laughs and pushes his sunglasses back up to the top of his nose.
“I was the same way my first time,” David says and leans back on the sofa. “But they wouldn’t have you on if they didn’t have the cards stacked, you know what I’m saying?”
“Guess so,” Spence says. “How many times have you been on?”
“Let me see.” David thinks for a minute. “This would be . . . twice!”
They both laugh. David slaps his leg and seems to enjoy the joke for longer than it is funny.
“This is just the same ol’ routine to you then, huh?” Spence says.
David smiles and nods. “Are you high?” he asks.
“No,” Spence says. “Had a drink. But that’s it. You?”
“As a fucking kite, bro,” David says and laughs.
Spence smiles and leans back in his own chair, trying to look as cool as David does. A woman with a snake wrapped around her walks in the room, stares at the two of them for a minute and leaves. Spence looks over at David, who obviously thinks he was imagining it. His eyes are as big as the odd smile on his face. Spence decides not to tell him that she was really there. It would be too ridiculous to try and explain it.
“That’s cool stuff, man,” David says after a minute. “Stand-up comedy.”
“Yeah,” Spence says. Everyone who is way more successful than comedians always think comedians are cool. Millionaires in awe of people who barely make thirty grand per year and sometimes sleep in their cars. David probably drives a Porsche.
“Hey,” David says, “you like Dane Cook?”
The kid with the headset walks in the green room and looks around. He’s carrying a clipboard, and he flips through the sheets of paper on it. He speaks into the headset for a second and listens to someone on the other end. Then he looks at the clipboard again.
“We may have a problem,” the kid says and looks at Spence. At first he thinks the kid is talking to someone on the other end of the microphone. When he realizes otherwise, he gets up from the chair and stands in front of it.
“What kind of problem?” Spence asks.
“We’re looking a bit full today,” the kid says. “Would you be available tomorrow if we had to bump you?”
“Sure,” Spence says and nods with a smile. He wants to hang himself.
“We’d just keep you at the hotel and use you tomorrow or the next day,” the kid says.
“That’s fucked up, bro,” David says from the sofa. No one pays attention to him.
“It’s no big deal,” Spence says to the kid with the headset. He wants to shoot himself in the face.
“It would only be another day or two,” the kid says.
“No problem,” Spence says. He knows that the kid is just being polite. When comics get bumped, they rarely get put on the show the next day. They normally have to wait weeks or even months before they get another shot. Sometimes it never happens. Sometimes you just get to sit in the green room and tell people you almost did the show.
“At least I got to ride in a town car,” Spence says to the kid and laughs. The kid gives him a blank look and nods and walks out of the room.
“That’s fucked up, bro,” David says again.
“Nah.” Spence tries to pretend he doesn’t want to eat a bag of glass. “Shit happens.”
“Damn, man,” David says, “I’ll just bring you out with me, yo. You can tell jokes, and I’ll just sit there and laugh.” He holds up his hand and high-fives Spence. He probably doesn’t even know he’s on The Tonight Show. In ten minutes, he’ll walk outside and call Jay Leno “Conan.”
Spence feels his pocket buzz and realizes that he forgot to turn off his phone. He pulls it out and reads a text message from Sam:
I LOVE YOU, TV STAR.
He smiles. He doesn’t have to tell her yet. He’ll enjoy the green room and the gift basket and the free baseball cap with The Tonight Show printed across it. He even gets paid to be here. He’ll just come back and do the show tomorrow, right?
Right?
A second later the kid in the headset returns and practically carries David out of the room.
“Kick some ass, bro.” David high-fives Spence again on his way out of the green room.
“You too.” Spence
smiles as David leaves to go onstage babbling like an idiot. In the green room, there is a large TV where he can watch the show being recorded. He turns up the volume and watches. Jay Leno looks smaller in person.
“My next guest is the star of a very popular program you can see right here on NBC,” Leno says to the camera and introduces David Nguyen. David walks out with a smile on his face bigger than the rest of his head. He sits down next to Leno and begins his interview by giggling like a ten-year-old girl.
The phone buzzes again. This time it’s a phone call from Rodney. First time Rodney has called him since the big blowout. The same blowout that ended in Rodney getting his walking papers. Spence winces and lets it go to voice mail. He’s about to get bumped from his Tonight Show appearance. The last thing he needs is Rodney rubbing it in.
On the TV, Leno is obviously uncomfortable with the nonsense coming out of David’s mouth. He is asking questions but getting back mostly giggles and “yeah, mans.” The audience is laughing, but mostly because Leno is able to make a few cracks here and there.
“Ah, the youth of America,” Leno says. David grins and tries to high-five Leno. Leno smiles, shakes his head, and introduces a clip of David’s TV show.
“This is gonna run short,” the kid with the headset has reappeared and is standing in the doorway, looking at the train wreck that is David Nguyen’s interview unfold on the TV monitor. “We’re gonna cut to a break and bring you on right after.”
“I’m not bumped?” Spence says, looking more eager than he probably should.
“Not after watching that.” The kid points at David being stared down by Jay Leno on the TV, trying his best to cover up the fact that his current guest is somewhere in Oz.
“Cool,” Spence says out loud without realizing it.
“Congratulations.” The kid practically winks at him and then holds the microphone on his headset close to his mouth. “Here we come.”
With one hand, the kid gives him a “follow me” signal and leads Spence down a part of the hallway he hasn’t been through yet. There are more framed posters on the wall, more pictures of Jay Leno, a few of Johnny Carson, at least one Ed McMahon photo. He’s surprised how many people run this show. There are people all over the place, many of them wearing headsets, almost all of them dressed in black.
“Right this way.” The kid motions him around another corner where yet more people are standing. The Kilborn show was so much smaller. There was no house band, no dozens of staff members everywhere. It seemed downright tiny compared to this operation. His walk seems to go on for miles before he steps through a doorway and to an area where he can hear the show. It takes him a minute before he realizes that he’s standing behind the curtain. He’s in the studio now. He’s backstage at The Tonight Show.
“Holy shit,” Spence says.
“Don’t say that when you go out there, please.” The kid in the headset smiles at him.
“Oh, I . . .”
“It’s cool,” the kid says. “You’re gonna be great.”
“Yeah?”
A young woman, who is also wearing a headset, runs over with a tiny microphone in her hand with a thin wire that runs from it to a little black battery pack.
“Clip this to your lapel,” she says. “Run the cord down the inside of your shirt and then clip the battery pack to the back of your jeans.”
Spence does what she says and adjusts his sports jacket so that the microphone seems hidden. He’s done this many times before on local TV shows and on the Kilborn show. In the clubs, he always likes the feeling of the microphone in his hand. But every comic knows it’s good to get used to performing with a wireless microphone.
“Say something,” the kid says to him.
“What?” he stammers.
“Perfect,” the girl says, “don’t touch the mic.”
“I—” he stutters as she walks away.
“Have fun, and remember where to stand,” the kid in the headset says and steps back a few feet to give him some room. There was a brief moment earlier where they showed Spence where to stand. Now it seems as if that was four months ago. “Go straight through the curtain and right onto the mark. You know the drill.”
“The drill, yeah,” Spence says. He thinks Glass Tiger was a Canadian band. He tries to remember what Canada is. He thinks it’s a country.
“And don’t touch the mic,” the kid says.
Everything is much cooler here. Spence wonders if the blood in his body is going cold and he’s dying. Then he remembers that it’s very cold on TV sets. He remembers that same feeling from when he did the Kilborn show. They have to keep all the equipment cool and make up for the fact that the lights are so hot. He’s practically freezing. It will change when he steps out from behind the curtain. It will be warm. The lights will hit him, and he’ll feel better.
Music is playing, and he knows that there’s a commercial going on. The music starts to get louder. He hears commotion outside, behind the curtain. About ten feet away, people in headsets are watching TV monitors. He sees the title card for the The Tonight Show come on one of them. The audience begins applauding. The music comes to an end as the bands stops playing.
This is it.
“Welcome back,” Jay Leno says to the camera.
Jay freaking Leno, he thinks.
“My next guest has appeared on numerous television programs,” Leno embellishes, “and can be seen touring regularly all over the United States and in Canada. A very funny, talented young comedian. Please welcome: Michael Spencer.”
He hears his name, and it sounds amazing. He just heard Jay Leno announce his name on The Tonight Show. In an instant, one of his biggest dreams just came true. With a huge smile on his face, he steps out from behind the curtain and onto the set. Applause surrounds him and cameras focus in as he steps up to his mark. The nervousness is gone. The anticipation is gone. The butterflies are dead.
He’s ready.
20
Spence stands in his hotel room feeling triumphant. It has been hours and yet he still stands and looks out the window of the hotel as if he just walked off camera. It has taken several drinks to make his hands stop shaking, but he doesn’t feel drunk. He feels great. He feels more alive than he has felt in years. He feels like he just conquered the world.
“Great stuff,” Jay Leno said to him as he shook his hand and the show went to a commercial break. That was all he said, but it was all that mattered. It felt amazing to hear it, and it was only two words. The audience applauded as the “Applause” sign blinked on and off again, but it was obvious they would have applauded either way. His set was just that good.
HOW DID IT GO?
The text message is from Beth. He forgot that he even told her he was going to be there. He types back that it went great and takes a few moments to simply smile and dance around his hotel room. He hopes that Evan doesn’t think that comedians on The Tonight Show are such deadbeats after all. He doesn’t know why he cares. Evan is out of the picture anyway. Evan is a douche.
The phone buzzes again, and he rolls his eyes. He knows he’s going to have to call Beth and splash cold water all over whatever nonsense is in her head. He has no intention of going back to her. He never really did. He considers defaulting on his storage space and letting all of his belongings sell to auction. He looks down at his phone at the new message that came through:
I LOVE YOU. I AM SO PROUD OF YOU.
This time the text message is from Sam. He deletes the message from Beth and dances around the room a little bit longer. He wants to call Sam right away and tell her all about it. In a few hours, she’ll watch the whole thing on TV, but he wants to give her the details, line by line.
He thinks of going out to some jewelry store in LA and buying her a huge diamond ring, bigger than anything he can actually afford. He thinks of flying home and asking her to be with him forever. He knows it’s crazy, but he enjoys the thought and dances around the hotel anyway. He never thought this about Beth. He thinks
the word forever all of a sudden, and it doesn’t make him puke. That has to count for something.
He puts down the booze and takes a deep breath. He might pass out before he gets to see himself on TV and wake up with a terrible hangover, which is exactly the opposite of what he wants right now. He tells Johnnie Walker to take a break and then gives the bad news to Jack Daniel’s, too. Tonight, he’s going to just enjoy life a little bit, watch himself on TV, and experience life with twenty-twenty vision.
Just like he does with Sam.
His phone rings, and he picks it up right away. He knows it’s Sam, and he wants to tell her how everything seems right in the world. He gets down on one knee, prepared to propose over the phone if he has to.
“Hey, baby,” Spence says and leans on his right leg as he kneels.
“Wassup, sweetums?” Rodney says on the other end. When he hears Rodney’s voice, Spence bolts upright and stands looking at himself in the mirror on the wall. He wanted to talk to Sam.
“What do you want?” he says, instantly sober.
“Nice to hear from you, too,” Rodney says.
“What is it?”
“What do you think?” Rodney says. “I’m calling to congratulate you.”
“Congratulate me for what?” Spence asks, playing dumb.
“For what,” Rodney scoffs. “What the hell do you think for?”
Spence pauses and looks over his right shoulder. It’s still very bright outside, but he feels as if it’s midnight. “For the show?” he asks.
“Damn right, for the show,” Rodney says. “The Tonight Show. Way to go, buddy.”
“How’d you find out about that?”
“I’ve got my sources, you know. I’ve got people working for me out there, too.”
“Great.”
“Yeah,” Rodney says, “great. Listen, if you wanna talk about it, I think I can get you some really great work.”
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