Allison and I met up last night at the Housing Works Bookstore Cafe, a great spot in Soho, for the Moth Story Slam. You put your name in a hat, and maybe they’ll call you up to the stage to tell your story. Your story has to be on the given “theme” The Moth provides, and it is up to interpretation. However you take it. You have 5 minutes to tell your story. Judges are picked from the audience, and those who win can go on to the Grand Story Slam. I have been hearing about The Moth for years (every single person I meet who learns a tiny bit about me says, “Have you checked out The Moth?”), so it was so fun to go.
I showed up at the Housing Works Bookstore (I’ve been there before, my friend Sheila has read her poetry there), and was shocked to see the line stretching off down the block to the corner. I don’t know why I was shocked. The Moth is popular. But as I said about my trip with Allison to the Weegee exhibit: one of the great things about living in an urban environment (or, I suppose anywhere, it’s just more acute here) is that you may think you’re discovering this really cool thing, and you show up and the place is jam-packed with other people who have had the same idea. I love that. I was expecting a crowd, but not a down-the-block crowd. The crowd was so attention-getting that people kept stopping and asking us what we were wating in line for. Strangely enough, everyone stopped to ask me and Allison. There were throngs of people around us. Did we look official? Like we were Moth people? I have no idea. It got a little bit annoying. Ask someone else in line what’s going on, we’re trying to catch up with each other. So finally, one guy came up to us (of course), came right up to us specifically, and asked us what we were waiting for, and I replied, “Eminem’s signing autographs at the bookstore.”
The theme of the night was The Kiss of Death. The bookstore is a beautiful place, with little balconies, and exposed brick, and it’s staffed entirely by volunteers. You can read more about the excellent work Housing Works does here. Finally, the line started to move. We did not have tickets. Unbelievably, Allison and I were the last ones they allowed in. We couldn’t believe it. Music was playing, there was a little bar set up, with wine and beer, and the atmosphere was friendly and pumped. We were stepping into a whole world and atmosphere we knew nothing about, but we were curious and excited.
The emcee was a fabulous woman (I can’t remember her name), hilarious, witty, and really kept the event moving along. She set a great tone. So people come up from the audience, after their names are drawn, and tell their stories. Some took the Kiss of Death literally, others it was more metaphorical. Everyone was interesting, everyone was engaging. Some stories were quite serious and you could literally have heard a pin drop in that bookstore. It was a phenomenal thing, to be in a big space, filled with people, who were drinking, and to have everyone go quiet as a church. Beautiful!! But then some stories were HILARIOUS and the place rocked with shared laughter. So communal.
People are beautiful.
Also, everyone was asked to turn their phones completely off. And everyone obeyed. Nobody was huddling over their glowing screen, surreptitiously ruining the event for everyone else. It was an extraordinary feeling.
These were not rehearsed stories, although obviously many people had timed them out. Nobody went over time. I loved standing in the back, having no idea what I was about to hear, and then launching myself into somebody else’s world, their stories, their characters, the thing they wanted to share.
It was a very loving space as well. The main vibe was enthusiasm and support. Despite the fact that people were being judged, this was not a harsh space, filled with snark. I mean, everyone knows how frightening it is to get up in front of people, and to be under the gun, and so there was a general feeling of good will. One guy spoke about a girlfriend who had died. One girl spoke about her grandfather, and her relationship with her mother. One girl spoke about the 2009 revolution in Iran (she was there, visiting her grandparents). One guy talked about touring China with a national tour of Cinderella and basically breaking up with his boyfriend over Skype. One guy talked about losing his Ferrari dealership out on Long Island.
To say I love these people is an understatement.
My parents always used to say to us kids, when we would be bitching about a misunderstanding at school, or a teacher who was an asshole, my parents would say, “Listen, it takes all kinds.”
They were very big on “It takes all kinds”. A gentle reminder. It’s not all about you. It takes all kinds to make this world an interesting and sometimes frustrating place.
Standing in that shadowy bookstore, hearing an entire group of New Yorkers either fall totally silent during a serious story, or guffaw with laughter during a funny one … and watching people share their interpretations of “kiss of death” with all of us … the vast array of experiences shared … I found myself in tears at the beauty of the experience.
Allison and I walked off down Houston after the show, high on life. Thank God it takes all kinds!
