posted by Mike on Aug 27
I don’t think people believe me when I tell them I find my life ridiculous. To them I say bullshit!
Friday night, my last in LA for a little while, my friend Jay and I checked out the single most brilliant stage production in the history of American theatre: Point Break Live. Point Mother-Fucking Break. Live.
I understand if you need to sit down.
Over the top doesn’t even begin to describe the experience. We walk in the door and are strongly encouraged to purchase a “Point Break Live Survival Kit” for a buck. I’m already several beers in so of course we buy them. After a shot and a beer we open our survival kits and find:
(1) Poncho
(1) Napkin
(1) Fake $1 With Patrick Swayze’s Face
(1) Fake $5 With Keanu Reeves’ Face
The money’s for when we get robbed during the show. The poncho will also be important.
Jay and I grab another beer and wait for the show to start. The place fills up and you can tell everyone is half-drunk and ready to laugh their ass off.
The show starts. The director asks for audience members to come up on-stage and audition for the role of Johnny Utah aka Keanu Reeves. Jay goes up and fucking wins the role. It was close until he quoted a line from “A Walk In The Clouds”. The crowd went nuts and ever other contestant left the stage in shame. That’s why I fucking love Jay.
Fucking hilarious barely describes the next two hours. During intermission a few girls are asking me about Jay until they realize I care significantly more about my two Amstel Lights then anything they could possibly say. I’ll defend myself here because I have a girlfriend but in all honesty the building could have been on fire with Scarlett Johansson giving free blow jobs outside and you couldn’t have moved me from the bar. Anyway the show wraps up, I take a piss, grab two more beers and wait for Jay.
The place is emptying out when Jay comes out and says, “Hey, let’s hang out back stage for a bit.” Sounds good to me because that sounds like a place with beer. The next thing Jay says floors me, “They have free meatball sandwiches, oh, and Kirsten Dunst and Justin Long are back there too.”
“Holy shit, that’s awesome!”
And thirty seconds later my first meatball sandwich of the night is gone.
I look around and Jay’s taking pictures with the crew, trying to see how many free souvenirs he can walk off with and looking cool while his jackass friend wolf’s down sandwiches.
For the next thirty minutes about 15-20 people are hanging out backstage. Justin Long and Kirsten Dunst seemed cool enough, Kirsten gave me a high-five when she left because I must have looked like someone who didn’t have a meatball sandwich in his pants.
The next morning I wake up at 5:45, shower, throw on my pants from the previous night, say bye to Jay who gives me look that clearly says “Why the fuck would I want to see you at 6:30 in the morning?”, and head to the rental car place. After I drop off the car, I’m sitting on the shuttle to the airport shocked that I’m going to make my flight when I finally notice my right pants leg is covered in fake-fucking-blood.
I guess my poncho had shifted during the performance and failed to protect me from an explosion of surfer-dude blood. Hung-over, exhausted and seemingly covered in blood is 100% NOT the way to arrive at the airport. It’s also problematic if your destination after landing is a party thrown by one of your girlfriend’s professors. I rolled up about 40 minutes late because it’s one thing to tell a story but a whole different enchilada to be the story.
So, yeah, I’d recommend Point Break Live.
Dance, fucker!
