Sarah Silverman has suddenly become a media sensation in America. Before shocking everyone with her nasty Paris Hilton comments during the last MTV Movie Awards, she came out with her own hit TV show, The Sarah Silverman Program, and concert movie, Jesus is Magic, last year. What follows is an account of local filmmaker Quark Henares’ encounter with America’s current It Girl at a comedy club in Los Angeles.

Illustration By Arnold Arre

I’m not really one of those people who serially get obsessed with foreign female celebrities. In fact, I can only really remember two whose careers I really followed—and the first, Parker Posey, doesn’t really count because almost all her movies are good anyway. (But yeah, I watched Josie and the Pussycats for her.)

The other one is a lot less recognizable. Most of the time, when I mention her name, people go, “Who’s that?” But yes, I’ve gone through some absolutely horrendous films such as The Bachelor just to see two-minute snatches of her, as well as searching the Internet relentlessly for clips of her standup or guest appearances on shows like Conan or SNL. She was the girl who got socked in the beginning of Way of the Gun. She was also Mike White’s girlfriend in School of Rock. As my girlfriend will confirm, when her name pops up in a movie, I jump out of my seat and giggle like a schoolgirl.

Her name is Sarah Silverman. And a few hours ago she kinda got upset with me.

Ever since seeing her on Conan in 2000, I’ve been dreaming of watching this girl perform. She’s right up there on my list of best comedians with Ellen DeGeneres. (If you can download any of her audio recordings, you must do so now.) Knowing she lived in New York, I constantly scoured the comedy club gig skeds, hoping her name would turn up one way or another.

It never did.

Imagine my surprise earlier when, while driving to my relatives’ place in L.A., I passed by the Improv and her name was there. “STOP!” I screamed to my tito Joey.
“What’s wrong?!”

I asked if it was Thursday.

He said yes. I begged him to turn around.

We entered the comedy place. Watching standup comics further reinforced my opinion that standup is the worst job in the world. Some of them told really bad jokes, and the audience wasn’t polite enough to even chuckle. This one girl actually bowed her head and said, “Yeah . . . you know, my agent said I would suck at this,” and that was one of the only things she said that elicited laughter. However, there were some brilliant people I’d never seen before, especially this comedienne Kathleen.

Anyway, let’s skip all that shit and get to the main event: Sarah Silverman. Now, because I have a girlfriend who’s a hundred times funnier than her, I no longer dream of SS. But I swear, when she went onstage, I jumped out of my seat and giggled like a schoolgirl, just like the old days. She had such a terrific set, and, of course, the whole time I was just grinning like an idiot. Just to show you how much of a Silverman freak I am, I actually knew half of her jokes already. Here are some highlights:

“You know, I’m not racist. I actually had a boyfriend who was half-black, and he broke up with me because I was a terrible person. Wait, I’m being such a pessimist. I’m sorry—he’s half-white.”

“But really, I’m not racist. I love black folks. In fact, I have this theory that if black people were in Germany during World War II, the Holocaust would’ve never happened. They’d gas the blacks instead.”

[Author’s note: While she was mouthing off like this, none other than Carl Weathers was seated next to my sister—the guy who played Apollo Creed.]

“My niece is a lesbian. Yeah. She’s 11. But you know, my sister’s being really hard on her because of that. I mean, she punished my niece by saying no pussy for a month. But yeah, I’m trying to help. I tell her that whenever she makes a mistake, an angel will die of aids.”

“I’m sorry for being such a racist. I feel bad. This Mexican chick went up to me and said after a set, ‘Hey (sniffs herself), I’m Mexican and I don’t stink. And I felt so bad. I didn’t know how to tell her that people can’t smell themselves stinking.”

Wrong, I know.

Anyway, I was taking shots of her with my phone. So she turns around and sees me taking a picture of her and she exaggerates a sexy pose. Being a totally tactless idiot, I hold up a finger and say, “Wait! One more!”—which kind of peeved her, I think. (I hate that word: peeved.) While talking, she makes more sexy gestures. A bouncer comes up to me and says that he’ll take my phone away if I don’t stop. Sarah then says, “Actually, my neck is really slender. I was hoping you’d notice, and apparently you guys did. No. That’s a lie. That’s the length it goes up to my balls.” Then, she goes on top of a piano and says, “I look sexy on top of a piano, don’t I?” Then she pretends to have sex with the piano.

“Aw, yeah. You like that? Aw yeah. Bitch.”

Half of the time I was really embarrassed that I may have been the reason for this turn of events—and yet the other half was, once again, giggling like a schoolgirl.

The set ended. After a bunch of people talked to her and congratulated her, I went up to her and said the immortal line: “Hi Sarah, I came all the way from the Philippines, and I’m such a big fan of yours. Ever since I saw you on Conan.”

“No. Really?!”

“Yeah. I’ve seen all your movies—even saw The Bachelor.”

“Oh God, yeah I understand why you’d say that.” To her mom: “Hey mom, this guy saw me on Conan in the Philippines!”

Mom: “Really?”

Me: (thought bubble) “Oh my God, you were saying those things with your mom in the room? That is so cool.”

Anyway, she was really nice, even to some fratboy jerks who just went up to her and said, “Sarah, you’re so hot.”

I asked for her autograph on my phone and told her to go watch my own film Keka (hey, a guy can dream), and gushed a little more. I said sorry about taking her picture and she said sorry for yelling at me, even if she didn’t.
And then I go and spoil it all by saying something really stupid like, “Thanks Sarah! You’re my comedy idol!” As if this wasn’t enough, fratboy number one affirms the last statement’s stupidity by saying, “Did he just say, ‘You’re my comedy idol?’”

(A digression: I do this all the time. It’s so stupid. I once went up to Spiral Stairs [not Staircase] from Pavement and said, “Mr. Kannberg, you’re my hero!” I once told Michael Stipe: “Mr. Stipe, actually when I talked to you earlier, I was just embarrassed. But it’s do-or-die time. Can I have a picture with you?”)

My picture with Sarah is now lost. Damn digital photography.