Mike Buzzelli

Column Mike Buzzelli

Mike Buzzelli is a stand up comedian and published author. He is a theater and arts critic for 'Burgh Vivant, Pittsburgh's online cultural talk magazine, and an active board member of the Pittsburgh New Works Festival, the Carnegie Arts Initiative and the Carnegie Screenwriters. His book, "Below Average Genius" is a collection of essays culled from his weekly humor column here in the Observer-Reporter.

Too many Z’s

June 20, 2014

I took a bad nap. I have friends who would argue there is no such thing as a bad nap, but this was a bad nap. I was looking forward to closing my eyes for a few minutes. Three hours later, I awoke feeling worse than I did before I fell asleep. I caught more Z’s than I anticipated.

I had dressed right before I took my three-hour tour of dreamland. Jeans just aren’t appropriate sleepwear. My Polo shirt got caught on my belt, and it was strangling me when I bolted upright. I looked at the time. At first, I thought my alarm clock was deceiving me. I have accused it of lying to me before, but it turns out this time it was telling the truth

Side note: Once, I woke up from a nap at 8:08 and, in my somnolent state, I stared at the clock and said, “It’s BOB. It’s Bob o’ clock? That can’t be right.” Blame the boxy digital letters. My alarm clock looks like a calculator from the late-seventies.

I don’t know why this happens in naps, but I woke up with a crease across my forehead. It was the zipper line from the pillow. Normally, the zipper would have been hidden by the pillowcase, but I must have been thrashing around in my sleep. My sheets were all askew. I assume it was caused by my attempt to get comfortable in my street clothes before falling into my mid-afternoon coma. Either that, or I was being chased by Freddy Krueger. Of course, I hear Mr. Krueger rarely ventures off Elm Street.

When I woke, I realized that I had 15 minutes to get downtown. I had theater tickets. There was no way I was going to make it without a DeLorean or TARDIS, but I had to make an effort. Luckily, I wasn’t IN the show.

Like an extra on “The Walking Dead,” I shuffled to the car. A shower would have awakened me, but I didn’t have time.

Somehow I defied the laws of physics and made it downtown in 20 minutes. Unfortunately, there was a Pirates game, a concert at Consol Energy Center, a plethora of plays and no parking.

There is a lot on Eleventh Street and Smallman Street. Back in the day, we used to call it the Dust Bowl because it used to be a gravel lot. It’s been paved for years now, but I still call it the Dust Bowl. I got the last spot.

I ran to the theater. I was not the only one who showed up late, and they had delayed the start of the production.

The lights went down and the show started. You would think after a three-hour nap, I’d be awake for the show. You’d be wrong. I fell asleep before the curtain rose. Apparently, I missed a key plot point, and I was confused through the entire first act.

It was my second bad nap of the day.



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