to celebrate national novel writing month (or the unfortunately nicknamed "NaNoWriMo") this year i will spare myself the white-hair-inducing effects of writing 50,000 words in the month of November by writing a story a day.

these stories will be of any length and veer into any territory i wish. the idea is for me to write one a day for every day of november. these will be first drafts with minimal editing.

if you are into any of it. please comment below! perhaps you can help me figure out if there's ANYthing in these stories worth adapting or polishing into something awesome. 

story 3. cherry on top (by jenny yang. saturday, november 2nd, 2013)

performed at the oakland asian cultural center for the first time tonight. it’s an amazing community space and we did a night of comedy to help raise funds and awareness for mental health and disabilities issues in the Asian and Pacific Islander communities. the crowd was large and ready to laugh. we were all there for great community causes.  even one of my favorites ever actress, director and writer Amy Hill said that i was “genius” when she got on stage as the headliner of the show! i was blissed out just from that last line alone.

it was a long day of travel, sound checking, lack of sleep, performing, almost selling out my Chinese Tattoo t-shirts, meeting a bunch of supportive new friends, eating yummy chinese food (including Hong Kong-style egg puffs for the first time!), and hanging out with local comic buddy Irene Tu. i didn’t think anything else could really top all of that goodness.

then it happened. Irene and i were walking to the elevator of my hotel (she was coming with to interview me for an Asian American studies project of hers at UC Berkeley). we passed by a jovial group of revelers. they all had the glowy shiny and uniformly formal look of being happily wasted after a successful wedding party. two of the women and one of the men joined us in waiting for an elevator still finishing the end of their conversation that had them rather excited (could it just have been about something funny that another friend did earlier in the evening? who knew).  

once the doors to the elevator closed on the five of us, one of the women said, “wait! how about Chop?” to which the dude replied, “He'll be fine. Ladies love Chop because he's a salad killer.”


the moment the door closed behind us and we turned the corner down to my hall, we looked at each other and i bursted out laughing.

“They were pretty wasted,” irene said.

“I know but did you catch what he said?”

“no what?”

“Um...the part about “ladies love Chop because he’s a salad killer”????” I couldn’t stop laughing.

Irene was dumbfounded. “what? wait. what does that mean? am I missing something?”

“yes! have you heard the phrase toss my salad?” oh lord. i was gonna have to spell it out - spell out my dirty mind that is.

“um yes. but what does that mean?” she still didn’t catch the drift.

so i told her. salad equals butthole. Chop is a “salad killer.” hahahah. Ew.

maybe we’re way innocent. maybe i had it all wrong and i had no clue what that guy meant. but after a long day, that bit of linguistic creativity pushed us into fits of delirious giggling.

the end.