Friday Morning Epiphany

Allow me to honestly describe the Bishop Arts District. I began an open mic the first week of January because there weren’t any. Bishop Arts is actually “Bishop Shops”. There’s no art, unless shopping is considered an art. There are people eating in restaurants who purchase the skewed version of what they consider to be art from time to time, or maybe got an art degree to piss off their conservative parents, but few artists. Anyway, I handed out fliers all over the neighborhood. Instead of coming to my open mic, the businesses in the neighborhood started five open mics of their own. No one goes to any of them. Fellowship is dead. It’s all about the selfie. At least I have my own venue twice a month, and I’m not mad about it. Free coffee.

At least there’s still that awesome, hidden gay karaoke bar down that side street. Oh, wait. They began an open mic, too.

Screw it. I’m taking over all of them.


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