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Captive Audience

The elevator in our building is sort of like my daughters’ private little comedy training ground. If we’re alone in it they usually fight or keep silent, but if anyone else happens to find themselves in there with us, they’re going to get a show. Of course, as an improv comedian, I sort of can’t help fanning the comedy flames, which is how we end up being in situations like this pretty frequently:

Dina: Some guy was talking about my shoes at the store.

Me: Like, an adult or a kid?

Dina: Like, a grown man. More than a grown man. Like, a 40 year old.

Middle age man and woman in elevator laugh.

Dina: I don’t know. I’m not so good at telling ages. Like, how old do I look?

Me: Like…72?

More laughter as the middle aged couple realize they are our audience.

Dina: Mom!

Me: I’m not good at telling ages.

Dina scowls.

Me: Okay. Between 6 and 42, definitely.

More scowling (she’s playing the straight man).

The elevator reaches our floor. The audience is in hysterics. As we get off the elevator…

Dina: (sighing) Man, we are a funny family.

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