Next stop?
Up the boardwalk a couple of blocks to Frankie’s Good Eats by the Sea. My uncle’s diner is always packed on Saturdays, so sometimes I lend a hand, helping out behind the cash register.
The best part? I get to tell a joke to every single person I ring up.
“Here’s your change, Mrs. P.—and how about a little Rodney Dangerfield for dessert?”
The woman smiles. She’s a real sweetheart. “Okay.”
I tug at my collar, like Rodney would. “I tell you, I come from a stupid family. During the Civil War, my great-uncle fought for the West!”
Mrs. P. cracks up. The next guy steps up to my register and hands me his guest check. He’s one of my regulars, Mr. Emilito. Delivers newspapers house to house.
“What’ve you got for me, Jamie? Make me laugh.”
I make his change first. “Fifty-three cents and some classic George Carlin.”
“Excellent!”
“Can vegetarians eat animal crackers? Hey, how do they get the deer to cross at that yellow road sign? I put a dollar in a change machine. Nothing changed.”
He’s laughing so hard, he almost swallows his toothpick.
So I work in a little of my own material.
“If number two pencils are so popular, why are they still number two?”
Mr. Emilito is still cracking up. “Who does that one?” he asks. “Carlin?”
“Nope. That one’s mine.”
“Really? Awesome!”
And he tosses his fifty-three cents into the tip cup that Uncle Frankie keeps on the counter.
Wow. I think I just became a professional comedian.
“You know,” says Uncle Frankie, “you’ve got a gift, Jamie.”
“Really? Did it come with a gift receipt? Because I’ve had my eye on an iPod….”
“Jamie? Can you maybe be serious for two seconds?”
“I can try.”
“Good. I saw this in the paper. You should enter this comedy contest. Think about it. I’ve seen you with the customers, kiddo. And with Joey Gaynor and Jimmy Pierce,” says Uncle Frankie. “You’re hysterical. You could win. Seriously.”
I disagree. Seriously.
One, I don’t think I’m funny enough. Not even close.
Two, I’d definitely choke.
Because I’m a choker.
Seriously.