Nick Thune at The Bell House

by Eudora Peterson

If you talked to most of the people who went to Nick Thune’s comedy special taping at The Bell House, they would say things like, “what a really great show!” or, “I really liked his accent!” or, “he was really too tall!” I would be like most people, too, but unfortunately I burned my right eye with a considerable amount of battery acid the morning after I went to his “really great” show. Now I must live with singular heat beam vision, so if you talked to me, unlike most people I would say, ‘screw the guy,’ in a really funny accent.

Most people don’t know this, but I’ve actually met Nick Thune before. Back then, we were on speaking terms. It was after a show in Ohio, and, despite his height, I approached him and we talked for a bit. At first I thought he was like a tall glass of water — refreshing to drink, easy to bathe with, probably signs autographs well. But I just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a rat bastard. Somehow — and I don’t know how — I must have known that he would eventually cost me the ability to hold any meaningful eye contact, as well as $3.88 in ticket service fees. Somehow, from that one encounter, I knew he would curse me for life.

You would never guess, but whenever I talk about my condition, most people are less interested in my singular heat beam vision and more interested in how funny Nick Thune was at The Bell House. However, I think they’re missing the point. Because of Nick Thune, I can no longer open my right eye without shooting a single heat beam out into the world, so it really doesn’t matter how funny the guy was. Although I’d have to say that, yes, he was a riot. If you meet him, you can tell that he’s the kind of comedian who’s not only written a lot of jokes, but who’s tested them many times to make sure they deliver a punch. And everything he said at The Bell House was funny. But you know what’s not funny? The hole I bore in the small space between my mother’s eyebrows this morning when I tried to give her a friendly hello wink. Boy, did I wish I could have seen the expression on her face. But because of Nick Thune, I’ll probably never look at my mother again without killing her for good.

Most people think my days are fun, but usually they are bleak. When they are exceptionally bleak, I try to tell myself that maybe this curse is a blessing in disguise. For example, before I had singular heat beam vision, I had to microwave my food before I could eat it. But now I don’t need to microwave my food because I have developed a taste for cold fancy soups. In fact, I can eat them straight out of the can! But I suspect that this blessing in disguise is actually a curse, because why would a blessing have to walk around in a disguise. Why wouldn’t it just go to work in its normal clothes?

Curse or blessing notwithstanding, like most people I have to admit that Nick Thune knows show business. I don’t think I’ll ever laugh at another comedian the way I laughed at Nick Thune, but I also know I’ll never laugh again because every time I open my right eye, I accidentally hurt someone I love. And after awhile, that takes its toll on you.

Most people have no idea how difficult it is for me to say this, but as a comedian, a civilian, and an-all around man, I really like Nick Thune. But I also really like hello winks, looking through spyglasses, and watching The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert without squinting the entire time. So when most people ask me whether or not they should watch Nick Thune’s comedy special, I say, “yes, you should.” But what I’m trying to say is it’s not worth it.

Photo via magpiebessie/flickr.

Eudora is a comedian.