The “My Rogue Holiday” Olive The People Storytelling Event Pt. 4

January 14th 2015

Story originally experienced: December 6th 2014

“This is the last show I’m ever going to do.” 

“Wait what? This one? Tonight?” she asked me.

“Yes.”

Rewind.

I was sitting in a coffee shop. Then an apartment. Then inside of a bar. Eventually in Bryant Park. And at one point the street.

Parading around New York City with my work bag in tow, jacket drenched in subway smoke, meeting my storytellers anywhere and everywhere to get them amped for the upcoming event. Explaining the theme. Treating them to snacks. Provoking them to tell me their wildest and most outlandish holiday tales.

“Basically, the theme for this event is going to be called ‘My Rogue Holiday’ so the story can really be about any holiday. It can involve alcohol, not involve alcohol, childhood pasts, strange gifts, a weird party, one you never thought you’d tell. Things like that.”

I loved witnessing their memories run at high speed. Their brainstorms confessed out loud. Hearing all of the rough draft ideas until their best ones came to life.

Even if they were a little lengthy...

Por ejemplo.

 

And then the day came.

And there were mic checks.

mic check olive the people

Testing 1, 2, tres.

 

 

Light checks.

light check olive the people

Nope. Not nearly enough Christmas lights.

 

Free merchandise.

olive the people merchandize

All yours baby.

 

And of course, the surprise magician I hired for the grand finale:

This guy.

Bitches have no idea.

 

And finally.

The scene was set.

All good, captain.

All good, captain.

 

And the storytellers were rallied for role call.

storyteller role call

Let’s role.

 

The lineup of ludicrous stories was revealed:

Surprise.

Surprise.

 

And then the crowd powered

down

As the lights went UP.

And everything that happened after that (highlighted for your timely convenience) went exactly like this:

 

I was smitten with the results.

Not just with this show.

But with the first one.

My terrifying decision to do the second.

The scary step to do the third.

And here. Now. Packing up my equipment in the basement of a bar.

And yet.

Something didn’t feel quite right.

And that’s when I told my roommate and best friend Charlie at the after party just moments afterwards,

“This is the last show I’m ever going to do.” 

“Wait what? This one? Tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It just will be. Well. Actually. Let me specify. This is the last show I’m ever going to do this way. Here.”

“What do you mean?”

And then I told her that recently,

I was sitting in a coffee shop. Then an apartment. Then inside of a bar. Eventually in Bryant Park. And at one point the street.

Parading around New York City with my work bag in tow, jacket drenched in subway smoke, thinking about things anywhere and everywhere and not really realizing anything other than:

I wanted more.

To give more.

Share more.

Tell stories. Find stories. And live a story.

More.

That everything about hosting 4 storytelling events based on diaries bound for a dream.

Was scary. Humbling. Exciting.

But no longer new.

So.

I ordered pizza on Monday night.

Called Katie to join Charlie and I at our apartment.

Told them I was going to erase my entire log of ideas from 2014 on my homemade chalkboard.

Remember this?

Remember this?

 

And I wanted them to be there to witness it.

Plan it.

And above all.

Help me make 2015 —my bitch.

 

And we agreed.

Over pepperoni and parmesan.

That we’d make it all happen. All over again.

In a better way. Bolder way.

And certainly in a way no one will ever see coming.

Stay tuned. And stay awesome.

Things are about to get even more rogue.

Special shout out to my kickass storytellers: Jim, Joe, Megan, Billy, Charlie, Sir Kyle, Magic Mike and Nick! And of course, my killer video crew Dan and Andrew and my exceptional photographer (and cousin) Sam.