Written By Brad Harness
The audience smiled and laughed, but I hadn’t yet connected with them. So I frowned and pointed towards the piano.
“You know, 88 keys on that darn thing. They call it “‘Tickling the ivories’ because those white keys were made from ivory from the tusks of elephants. True fact!!” I declared.
“Ooo, that’s awful!” an older woman commented, loud enough for all to hear.
I smiled at her. “You know what? You’re right. It is awful. And that’s why they stopped making them out of real ivory and use artificial materials ever since.”
Silence, albeit with some comprehending head-nodding.
“Unfortunately our piano man, Jeff, couldn’t make it tonight so they asked me to come keep you all entertained for a while.”
I walked the short stage, careful to note the edges of it in that dark room, lest I tumble off into the audience.
“Alright, here’s one for you: Where do pianists go on vacation?”
Nothing.
“The Florida Keys” I told them. A few laughs.
“What’s the difference between a piano and a fish?”
“You can’t tuna fish!” I said, with my hands held up in disbelief.
“What do you get when you drop a piano down a mineshaft? ‘A’ flat minor.” Groans from the audience.
“What do you get when you drop a piano on an army base? ‘A’ flat major.” Louder groans.
“Why was the piano invented? So the pianist would have a place to put his coffee.” Nodding heads. I knew this point in my act. It is where the audience are holding back, expecting more to come.
“You know, since we are here aboard the lovely Caribbean Princess, it makes me think of pirates. I always wondered…What makes pirates such good singers?”
A woman in the back then called out, with a French accent, “So they can hit the high Cs!”
I could see the shapely silhouette of Francine, and was glad my first heckle of the evening was a friendly one. Ten minutes and three heckles later, after the act was over, I found her hand touching my shoulder.
“Bobby, I heard you were performing here tonight so I just had to come see you in action.”
I looked into her eyes, a bit flustered. I had to take control.
“I think we should start again. My name is Bobby…Bobby Jackson.”
~ THE END ~
