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Get In The RV, Part 16: The Fairly-Laid-Back Conclusion

by Joe Evans III

My last few days in the Bay Area are great. I secretly pretend that I’m a much bigger professional comedian than I really am, fresh off his biggest tour, with nothing else to do but relax in his nice Berkeley apartment. Technically, it’s Chris’s apartment, but I ignore that. I try to rest up at “home,” but it doesn’t take long before I nearly break the shower knobs, and get a CD stuck in the computer. The illusion is quickly shattered, as I destroyed my responsible friend’s apartment, as thank you for allowing me to stay there for free for a few days. It’s good to know that even in my wildest fantasies, I’m still a wreck.

When Chris comes home from work and finds me passed out on the couch watching TV Land, we manage to straighten everything out. Nothing is broken; I’ve just been reduced to a state of constant paranoia. To relax, we go out for a quiet dinner and have a nice time catching up and talking about the New York punk scene back when we both lived there a few years ago. That seems to be the tone for the weekend. As exciting as it is to be in a new city, I’ve about had my limit. Feeling burnt out physically and mentally, I spend a lot of time hanging around the apartment, opting to stay in and watch Saturday Night Live by myself instead of going out with Chris and his girlfriend.

Get In The RV, Part 15: East Bay Fun

by Joe Evans III

Todd and I spend my last few hours in Los Angeles getting a nice breakfast of fruit before he drops me off at the light rail, to make my way to the airport. I’m always anxious about something going wrong while traveling, but today I’m on a tight deadline; my last show of the tour is tonight, at Gilman Street in Berkeley. When I get to the airport and through security, I’m all right; I have enough excitement in my life, and I’m happy to sit around and be bored for a few hours. Then my flight is delayed. 

I get a phone call, from a computer saying, “We are letting you know that your departure time has been upgraded,” to which I think, “I don’t think you actually know what ‘upgrade’ means, computer.” Upon closer examination, the delay is only fifty minutes, and I’m flying to Oakland. I figure that’s not bad, and I’ll be fine. The plane doesn’t show up until moments before we’re supposed to have taken off, and by then I’m stressing out, but they suddenly rush everyone aboard. As I take my seat, the crew announces, “As we’re running a little late, please hurry and take your seats. We’re not telling you to hurry, but, hurry up.”

Get In The RV, Part 14: Comedy of Errors

by Joe Evans III

When I first started booking my stand up tour, I was ambitious; I’d travel all over the West Coast, the South West, maybe even Canada. Then, I booked three shows, all in California. Not exactly Black Flag level touring, but by this point I couldn’t help but think it was for the best. Living out of a few backpacks exhausts you, and I figure out that getting around by yourself in a new city can be tricky when you don’t have an RV to ride around in. A little downtime seems all right.

My free days are spent in San Pedro while I stay at Matt and Kevin’s house. I hang out with Matt, take in more local sites like the aquarium, maritime museum, and views of the ocean while drinking cheap horchata. The morning of my last full day in LA, I have to figure out public transit again on my own to get to the Razorcake house. It’s nerve racking; I’m by myself with everything I have at this point, and the first bus out of San Pedro is not only late, it’s the wrong bus. But it sorts itself out, and I make it after two hours. Todd Taylor even waits up for me, and treats me to a late lunch.

Get In The RV, Part 13: First LA Stand Up Show

by Joe Evans III

The first day of having nothing to do or anywhere to be is a huge relief. For now, I’m staying with my friend Chris who flew down from the Bay Area and got a hotel room by the theater. We spend the day walking all over LA with the rest of my bandmates, taking in the sites and nice weather despite it being January. I still feel like a big shot that’s finally getting to relax and enjoy everything. Later on I get dinner and walk around Santa Monica with my friend Matt, though my confidence is gradually being replaced with weariness.

The next day, Chris checks out of his hotel room, and we spend some more time walking around exploring the city. It’s still fun, but now that we’ve checked out, I’ve got all three of my bags with me; my guitar, my travel backpack, and my duffle/sleeping bag. I like to think it’s easy enough to do, but after a while, it wears me out. But we’re both exhausted, and take some time to rest for a while before splitting up and going our separate ways.

Get In The RV, Part 12: The LA Show

by Joe Evans III

I wake up on top of some couch cushions I’d laid out, and hear the faint sound of the ocean. After a week of sleeping on the floor of our RV, living out of Wal Marts, we’ve somehow ended up at the beach house of one of the most extravagant mansions I’ve ever seen. Everyone’s still asleep, so I look around outside and find a patch of grass with a nice chair where I take a seat, looking out into the ocean, wondering if I’d actually died, or ended up in some Lost-type scenario. Considering I’ve slept in my clothes and haven’t showered in days, I can only assume that the owners are gone, lest I be immediately thrown off the premises. When a few others get up, we walk down to the private beach, and I think back to my words to Riley days earlier, “I will never see this ever again.”

Get In The RV, Part 11: Vegas Vacation

by Joe Evans III

We don’t get to Vegas until almost 9:30. Everyone else takes off to shoot a bit, but Will and Shannon keep driving instead of parking, and I stay on board. Granted, this was partially because I was getting homesick again, but I came in helpful when the refrigerator door flew open, spilling out most of its contents, which I clean up. By the time they finish it’s so late that we decide to hang out for as long as we can. I make it to five thirty, wandering around the city. It’s oddly quiet.

My plan to blow off some steam backfires; the next morning I’m convinced I’ve lost a bunch of stuff, and am in a bad mood because of it, passing up breakfast with everyone to try nap, until I decide I can’t sleep and keep looking around. After a little while, I find my stuff – buried in the bottom of one of my bags. I’m not sure if I’m relieved to have found it, or concerned that I’m clearly losing my mind.

On account of recommendations, we go to a shooting range. I'm tempted, it could help blow off steam, but I decide against it, fearing I'll injure myself. And it’s kind of creepy, with borderline racist posters plastered over the walls. However, it didn’t stop me from buying a souvenir t-shirt that read “I Don’t Call 911” with a picture of a handgun.

Get In The RV, Part 10: The Chris Gethard Show Highway

by Joe Evans III

Seeing as I have no idea where we are headed, it shouldn’t surprise me when we end up at the home of some local hippies, but it does.

The two hippies take us not to their house, but to the teahouse where they work. Apparently, they live in yerts (which are basically giant, Mongolian tents) in the backyard. Sure enough, we show up to do a show to five people. One just moved to America from Russia, less than a week ago. One walks out in the middle. After we finish, we get a tour of their yerts. As much as I love playing weird shows in unlikely places, there’s a little too much “You think you’re funny? This is funny…” attitude from the hippies for me. I’m eager to move on and drive all night.

Get In The RV, Part 9: From Texas To New Mexico

We wake up in Austin in a small apartment. We don’t have anything on the agenda, so we get brunch at a recommended Mexican place, and are soon on our way. Austin is officially the city I’m excited to see, but only get a glimpse before moving on.

We spend the entire day just driving out of Texas, which I genuinely enjoy. There’s something about the vast open space that’s calming. Admittedly, it feels like it goes on forever, but after the last twenty-four hours, I’m ok with boring. At this point we typically drive through nothing for an hour until we hit a small, downtown area that looks deserted, then more emptiness. We stop in Sweetwater at a deserted Pizza Hut, which I initially mock, since we’ve avoided chains for so long. But sitting with each other, talking, joking around, and reflecting on the trip so far, it turned out to be one of the best meals we have (aside from the actual food).

We keep on driving. I'm completely oblivious to how far we were going, or anything related to date or time. At one point I doze off and wake back up to see hundreds of flashing red lights in the distance. At one other point, I wake up as we’re stopped in front of a sign that says “No passing,” and I’m bewildered as to how we can keep going.

We spend the night in Las Vegas, New Mexico. Our goal for today is to reach Taos, where we’ll get to see natural hot springs. I keep dozing in and out, with no idea where I am, which is why I’m shocked to see that it’s snowing as we head through a small road through the mountains. It turns out Taos is much further north than I expected.

When we get into town, I’m taken by the views of the mountains. We meet up with our contact, Melanie, who guides us around – driving twenty minutes off the main road through a narrow dirt path, until reaching the end of a huge canyon, which is one of the most beautiful things I’ve seen the entire trip, leaving me speechless. From there, we take another twenty-minute hike down a small trail, down to the Rio Grande, where the hot springs are. It’s funny to think how just two days ago had us all at each other’s throats, and now we’re all naked in a hot spring together. Truth be told, I’m surprisingly comfortable being naked in front of everyone in the water, but not so much when we actually get out, into the chilly breeze and I don’t have a towel.

After that we get some more local sight seeing in, and everything is beautiful. As it gets late, Melanie takes us to the pizza place she works at, where we figure out what to do with the rest of our night. All of those plans are scrapped as soon as we see two hitchhikers, who we pick up. We also convince them to let us do a show at their house.

Next up: The crew is not murdered by weird hippies, hopefully.

— Joe Evans III

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Get In The RV, Part 8: Chaos in Texas (continued)

We’re pulled off the highway somewhere in Texas, waiting to hear from some people whether Chris (who we threw out earlier, due to his antics) is already in Austin, or missing. I’m riding in the car, which has pulled into an empty church parking lot, and I’m walking around, getting some air and enjoying the last moments of daylight when we receive confirmation: Chris is in Austin.

It's been a good day, getting to shower and clean myself up, but all my weariness comes back, between fast food for dinner, and knowing that no matter how funny this is now, it’s inevitably going to get awkward. Despite everything, I’m anxious to see Austin. While I’ve enjoyed the state so far, it’s nice to be in an actual new city, and not just the suburban sprawl. We stake out a spot about ten minutes away from the venue; as far as Chris knows, we’re still in Waco, tirelessly searching for him.

There are two shows tonight; a “UCB All Star” Improv show at 8, and a Gethard Show proper at 10. The band shows up separately around quarter to 9. I’d be much more excited for this show, except I’m feeling worse now. I pass up exploring the neighborhood and locals in favor of pacing around the front bar until it’s time to change and start sound checking. It dawns on me to try to text message the few people I know in Austin about the show about an hour before, to no avail. Either way, the theater is completely full, and our drunkest, rowdiest crowd yet.

As could be expected, the first few minutes of the show are incredibly awkward, since half of the cast is mysteriously absent. Fortunately, Chris shines in moments like this, and is quick to point out that the trip hasn’t been without its share of problems, including today’s events, mentioning “I may have lost some friends today.” That turns out to be the cue for the missing cast to storm in and tell Chris he’s been had.

After the show, we slowly pack everything up, and regroup in the RV to talk about everything that’s happened. It’s awkward, and on top of which I’m so exhausted that I actually start to fall asleep standing up. But once we get through it, things are better – not perfect, but better – and we go to a bar for a little while, where I stand around admiring the bartenders, apparently already having moved on from the manicurist earlier on that day. v We find an apartment to stay at for the night. When I walk inside, I’m hoping to charge my phone, as it was still my only connection to the outside world, but realize I’ve lost it. I don’t even bother looking for it, and go to sleep on a small couch, wondering what the rest of this trip is going to bring.

Next up: The crew gets over everything, and a lot more comfortable with each other.

— Joe Evans III

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Get In The RV, Part 7: Chaos in Texas

It’s 5:30 in the morning when Chris finally pulls into a Wal Mart lot, roughly an hour into Texas. We only stay for a few hours, starting back up by nine. I’m worn out, not having slept regularly or showered in days, but it doesn’t matter. I’m excited to be in Texas for the first time. Chris is in a different mood, tazing everyone else in the RV until we pull over and tackle him. It doesn’t deter him, as he keeps going, until we pull over again – this time throwing him out, on the highway, thirteen miles outside of Waco, and take off.

I’m sitting on the side bench inside thinking, “well, looks like we’re doing this.” However, I'm still pretty exhausted, so I can’t really comprehend it. However, it turns out that Chris’s bank card is still on board, so we make plans to stop at a hotel to clean up, and go to a spa. I can’t help but think that things are going to get awkward, but I take some joy in knowing at least I can shower for the first time in days.

First, the hotel. I’m so desperate to clean up that I actually go down to the lobby bathroom to wash my face and shave while other people use the shower. I felt infinitely better. From there we head over to a local spa, so we can all get assorted treatments on Chris’s dime. I go with a manicure from a lovely young lady who’s patient enough to deal with me, a guy who’s somehow cocky despite having lived like a hobo the past few days. I get my manicure, read Cosmo in the lobby area, and take a nap on the couch.

The minute we finish and walk out, we start getting texts that Chris is lost, and we slowly start panicking. We quickly brainstorm what to do, like searching the town’s Greyhound station, with no luck. Then we start making emergency phone calls, until we’re just sitting in this parking lot, completely unsure of what to do or how to find him, hopeless.

But as we think it over, things don’t add up, and we get suspicious. We talk it over for a few minutes and make a decision; Chris is pulling a fast one on us. We’re still a little shaken up, but determined to flip this around. Twenty minutes for a fast food dinner (first “real” meal of the day, really), and we take off, hoping for the best.

The drive from Waco to Austin is short, barely over an hour. Halfway through, after some more phone calls, our suspicions are confirmed: Chris is already in Austin. We quickly formulate a new, fool proof plan, and keep driving to Austin.

Next up: The mental game of chicken continues.

— Joe Evans III

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