Save Yourself by Cameron Esposito

Author:Cameron Esposito [Esposito, Cameron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2020-03-24T00:00:00+00:00

SURVIVE

A few years after college, I was sitting shotgun on a drive between Manhattan and Cape Cod, Massachusetts. My buddy Ben was driving. Mo and Claire were in the back seat. We were all young comics, out on a slapdash tour. With no booking agents to work out the details for us yet, we had conveniently booked shows in Chicago, Cleveland, Baltimore, and Provincetown, Massachusetts—you know, those neighboring cities. That’s the kind of glorious routing you get with a self-planned, three-years-into-stand-up tour. If you’ve been in Baltimore and thought, Let’s take an eight-hour drive to the end of whatever state juts most toward England and camp outside between shows so we can test this friendship! then you know what it is to be a stand-up comic just starting to work the road.

The four of us had detoured to Manhattan to spend the night at Ben’s Lower East Side apartment because we would rather drive through the busiest city in the world than pay $34 for a hotel room between Baltimore and Ptown. We were splitting $150 per show four ways; that $34 just wasn’t going to happen. We were exhausted from looking at each other and hadn’t had a damn minute to shit in peace in four days. That, my friend, is when you start telling sex stories. I think Ben started it, actually. He told the story of a recent exploit—he’d met a boy while doing shows in London, they’d hit it off so well that Ben decided to return the following month, except there was some sort of returning joke-teller visa snafu at the border and he had to fly back home without ever leaving the airport. It was a good story—would have worked as a Love Actually subplot—but I knew I had better.

I’m cocky about my sex stories. After college, I really kicked it into high gear to experience everything I missed between thirteen and nineteen with a sort of “race ’round the world” mentality. I underwent sage baths with yogis and had naked adventures in tree houses. By my late twenties, I’d become so stuffy—always in a relationship, always going home to spend time with my partner—that trotting out these sex stories packed an extra punch. It said, “Yo, I’ve done shit” and added a certain gravitas.

Usually I’d begin with my classic first smooch/facial ringworm story—but this time I decided to tell a story I’d laughed about for years with my BC suitemates. It was about a night toward the end of my sophomore year, around the time I’d first started seeing Jo, when I woke up from an alcohol-fueled blackout and didn’t remember that Ian had been in my room the night before. My roommates had told me that we’d been making out with my bedroom door open, and they’d seen us fully nude and having sex. I wrapped up the story with: “So my friends told me this guy I was seeing took me home, fucked me, and left before I sobered up. I

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