Stories from the Stage

LAURA LAPOINTE: My hands are so sweaty, I can barely grip the steering wheel.

I'm on my way to hang out with a guy, for the first time in, like, two years.

ZOEY DERING: I was tired, and I was hungry, and I heard there was food.

That was my excuse to go to a singles Christian group after work.

SUFIAN ZHEMUKHOV: Rebecca pulled me in close, kissed me on the lips, and then whispered into my ear, "I am married."

(audience groans) THERESA OKOKON Tonight's theme is "From the Heart."

Love is powerful, and when you add energy into that equation, it only serves to heighten the emotion.

And then sending those love vibes out to another person can be such risky business, because when we open ourselves up to the possibility of love, we're often at our most vulnerable.

LAPOINTE: I'm Laura Lapointe.

I'm from San Diego, but originally from Boston, and I am a spirituality consultant.

I work with people to help them bring spirituality into their lives in practical ways.

I understand that you use stories as a way of sharing and teaching about spirituality.

Can you tell me more about that?

Yeah, I think because spirituality can feel like such a heavy, intense topic for people, the best way to communicate about it is through stories.

Mm-hmm.

Because, if I'm sharing something from my experience, it becomes much more welcoming and approachable, and it enables people to connect that with their own stories.

And some people really feel like spirituality is something that's really serious, and some people feel like it can be a fun journey.

What is it for you?

What's your approach?

Within spirituality, there should be joy, there should be delight.

And that's actually a big part of what I hope to do, is bring spirituality into people's lives in a way that's accessible.

And for me, actually, I think there's a really important intersection between humor and spirituality.

That's something I want to explore more in my work with people.

My hands are so sweaty, I can barely grip the steering wheel, and I keep feeling like I have to pull over to go to the bathroom.

I'm on my way to hang out with a guy for the first time in, like, two years.

I had gotten divorced about seven years earlier, and I had my doubts about whether I could ever meet that one true soulmate who would fit with all my weirdness, but I'm someone who doesn't give up easily.

Since my divorce, my life had mainly consisted of working from home with my spiritual healing practice, occasional dinner outings with female friends, and going to my precious but tiny church, where there were three men: one who was married, one who was in his 80s, and one I had already dated.

(laughter) (exhales) I didn't really want to do online dating, and no one was trying to set me up with any guys, so I decided to try to set myself up with men who I thought looked promising as potential partners.

I had met this guy through a mutual friend who had hired us to play at her wedding, several years earlier, back in Boston, where my family lives.

I live in San Diego, but he had said if I'm ever in town, I should let him know and we could jam.

So here I am, on my way to what I'm hoping might become more than just a jam session.

The guy is a really well-rounded musician; he plays jazz, and R&B, and rock.

And he also works in the sciences, and he has this understated, kind of, "geeky, but cool" vibe about him.

Once I compose myself enough to get out of the car, and I'm in his studio singing, I start to feel like a connection is happening.

We're bonding over our mutual love for Stevie Wonder and Luther Vandross, and he's telling me about some of his upcoming gigs, and he mentions that his band is playing at a swing dance event that Friday night.

As I recall, he doesn't actually invite me, but he goes on about how wonderful the swing dance scene is, and says that I should check it out back in San Diego.

That doesn't sound appealing at all.

(laughter) I love dancing, but my only previous experience with partner dancing was at a swing dance years ago, and I remember feeling like I was being passed from one man to the next, like a sack of potatoes.

Nonetheless, I consider going to his dance, because I want to see him again.

But what's the point?

He's going to be on stage, and I don't want to dance with a bunch of random guys, I want to dance with him.

So I slip in a comment about my favorite caf in Boston, and he says the magic words: "Maybe we should go sometime when you're in town."

So as soon as I get home, I get on Facebook, and I send him a detailed message with all the times that I'm free over the next week before I leave town.

No response.

So then I sent him another message, apologizing for that message, and for the fact that I probably kept him up way too late the night before.

And I sent him a song that I think he might find inspiring.

(laughter) All I see from him on Facebook is a post to his followers about the swing dance event, no response to my messages, and certainly no personal invitation for that Friday night.

I have plans, anyway, I was going to hang out with my friend, Laurie.

And out of the blue she says she just really wants to go dancing.

This is weird.

Laurie and I have never gone dancing together.

So I tell her, this guy who has totally blown me off is actually playing with his band at a swing dance thing on Friday night, which he posted on Facebook, but I can't go, because he didn't invite me.

And she says, "Laura, you don't need an invitation "to the rest of your life.

"It's on Facebook.

"It's a public event.

Anyone can go."

She says, "Maybe we should just go see what it's like.

It could be fun."

So I put on a dress, just in case, but there's no way I'm going.

If I show up uninvited, he's going to think I'm a stalker, and my fun evening with my friend will turn into a total disaster.

So Laurie and I linger for a couple of hours over dinner at a nice restaurant, and then we go to Target and pick out new towels for her Airbnb, and it's 10:00, and she suggests we should go check out that dance, which started at 7:00.

Despite my extreme protest, she somehow gets me to the parking lot.

I refuse to get out of the car, and she says, in an uncharacteristically compelling and insistent tone, "Laura, you have to go in there and face your fear.

You're going to regret it if you don't go in there."

Next thing I know, I'm in this dance hall, and it's like I've been transported to the 1930s.

His band sounds really good.

Couples are swirling and twirling around the floor doing the Lindy Hop, which looks completely impossible to ever learn, but magical.

These two friendly guys come up and ask us to dance, and despite the fact that we totally missed the beginner lesson, they seem unfazed.

They move us around on the dance floor with a surprising amount of grace, despite our ineptness, and I start to hope the guy in the band is noticing.

There's no eye contact from him, just a cordial but awkward moment at the end, where he says hello and declines our invitation to join us for ice cream.

At the airport, on the way back to San Diego, I see his name pop up in my Facebook messages, and I get a little nervous because I've since sent more messages apologizing for the earlier messages.

(laughter) But then I tell myself, maybe he realized what he was missing out on.

And then I look down, and I see that he wrote, "You've weirded me out a little."

(exhales, audience laughter) Ouch.

I'm mortified.

Maybe I should just give up on love.

And then I remember something else he said.

"You should check out the swing dance scene back in San Diego."

And that is exactly what I resolve to do.

There's a monthly dance happening that Saturday night, and nothing can keep me away.

I show up by myself for the beginner lesson, and from that point, I don't stop.

I go to every dance and every lesson I possibly can.

I go from being in bed by 10: 30 most nights to being out multiple nights a week until 1:00 a.m.

Some nights, I dance with 15 different guys, most of whom are great.

It's all so much fun.

And while it's been a few years now, and I still have a lot to learn about Lindy Hop and about relationships, I still show up for the dance.

(applause) ZHEMUKHOV: My name is Sufian Zhemukhov.

I live in Arlington, Virginia, and work as an associate research professor of international affairs at George Washington University.

Before moving to the United States, I grew up in south part of Russia, where the Muslim ethnic minorities live, on the border between Russia, Iran, and Turkey.

And I understand you've also had a one-man show that's toured around the country and been off-Broadway.

Yes.

The story that I actually going to tell tonight is one of the stories from that show called, Flirting Like an American.

So growing up in Russia, to coming to the United States and being a professor, and now as a storyteller, is this what you imagined your life would be like?

ZHEMUKHOV: Being a professor, I never imagined that I would be performing on the stage.

And, uh, when I teach Russian history or Russian politics, I consider myself as a window for American students to that world where I came from.

I never felt so lonely in my whole life as when I moved to the United States from Russia in 2011.

I came on a scholarship at the Library of Congress, and got so lonely, that I was about to start talking to my toaster.

(laughter) But then, I got lucky, and met someone.

We were the only regulars in the European Reading Room, and I introduced myself.

She said, "I'm Rebecca."

I thought, would it be appropriate to say that I like biblical names?

But instead, I asked about her research.

She said, "I'm working on my PhD "about influence of Italian folklore on Domenico Scarlatti's early sonatas."

(laughter) Nothing came to my mind about Domenico Scarlatti's early sonatas, and I regretted that I dismissed my biblical line.

(laughter) Then I told her that I was working on my paper about Muslim rescue of Jews during the Holocaust.

She said, "Oh, that's funny, I'm Jewish."

I said, "I'm a Muslim.

I hope that's funny, too."

(laughter) Suddenly, she asked me, "Would you rescue me?"

And I said, "Are you in trouble?"

She said, "I might be."

That's when the librarian gave us "shut up" look, and I never learned why Rebecca was in trouble.

We met several times in the library, and talked about our research a lot and flirted a little, and I decided to make my move on the Valentine's Day.

Actually, I decided to make two moves, just to be sure.

(laughter) As my first move, I invited Rebecca to a cozy little coffee shop on Pennsylvania Avenue.

We had tea and shared a slice of lemon cake.

I usually compliment my date's nails... ...as an icebreaker.

(laughter) So I took Rebecca's hand and said, "I like that you don't do your nails."

(laughter) She said, "Are you sure you like women?"

(laughter) I said, "Not all women, but you, definitely."

We fought over the last piece of the cake, and I opened my mouth, encouraging her to feed it to me, which she surprisingly did.

And I said, (mouth full): "Take half of it."

(laughter) She took the cake with her lips out of my lips and said, (mouth full): "That was the funniest first kiss ever."

(laughter) We left the coffee shop holding hands and headed toward the Metro.

And I realized that if I let her go, that would be the end of it, and I didn't want it to end, so I was glad that I prepared my second move.

I said, "I should buy you a Valentine's card."

She said, "Oh, that's nice.

There is a CVS store on the way to Metro."

I knew that.

(laughter) Because earlier that day I went to that CVS, bought a card, wrote an inscription and put it back behind other cards so that nobody would buy it accidentally.

I let Rebecca pick her own card, and out of the wall of Valentine's cards, she went to the one I bought earlier, after... ...she failed five times and I had to talk her out of it.

(laughter) But before she opened the card, I said, "Let's steal it and make it memorable."

She smiled kindly, but said firmly, "No, let's not do that."

I said, "Fine, I'll do it alone," and I took the card out of her hand.

She stopped smiling and said, "I'm going to tell the manager."

(laughter) So I moved toward the exit, and Rebecca moved toward the counter.

And I calmed myself; everything's under control.

I paid for the card earlier, and I had the receipt in my pocket, and I exited the store.

But turned out that Rebecca was bluffing, and she exited after me, without the SWAT team surrounding me.

I offered her the card, but she snapped at me.

I said, "Why don't you just open it, and if you don't like it, I will return it."

She looked puzzled, and reluctantly opened the card, and read, "Rebecca, how lucky can one guy be?

"I kissed you and you kissed me.

Happy Valentine's Day."

She said, "Did you set this up?"

(laughter) And I was happy to see how she turned from wolfish back into foxy.

(laughter) I took her hands, looked into her beautiful blue eyes and said, "I've been looking for someone like you since I came here."

She kissed me and said, "Do you want to show me your place?"

I thought, "Hallelujah."

(laughter) It felt like the beginning of a meaningful relationship, and for the first time in many months, I didn't feel lonely anymore.

Rebecca pulled me in close, kissed me on the lips, and then on the neck, and then whispered into my ear, "I am married."

(audience groans) My heart sank, and I sat down on the sofa, and she sat on my lap.

I thought, this feels like breaking the Seventh Commandment, about not committing adultery.

Or is it the eighth one?

I mean, it's pretty far down the list.

(laughter) I thought, apparently, her marriage didn't work and she's trying to move on, and it occurred to me, maybe this is what she meant when asking me to rescue her?

And I said... (exhales) "I've heard that such things happen to others, "but I never thought that I would fall in love with a married woman."

And she said, "And I never thought that I would fall in love with two men."

Suddenly, I felt even lonelier than before I met her.

I realized that, whatever we shared with each other would be just stolen, much more so than my pseudo-stolen Valentine's card.

I never saw Rebecca again, but she remained in my heart as the first American woman to break my heart.

And since then, before making any move, I always ask my date directly, "Are you married?"

(laughter) (cheers and applause) DERING: My name is Zoey Dering, I'm from Gig Harbor, Washington, and I've been a registered nurse for about 30 years.

I understand that storytelling has a long tradition in your family.

Can you tell us a bit about where and how you were raised?

I was born in Minnesota, but my mom and her ancestors, all the way back to the mid-18th century, came from the White Earth Reservation.

I'm an enrolled member of the Minnesota Chippewa Tribe, and my mom and her relatives were all descendants from that area.

What do you think is the secret sauce to a good story?

My stories have always had a twist.

I take you down a well-thought pathway, and then I turn it around.

And it can be something surprising, but most of all, it reveals something about self; how you perceive things differently now.

And now it's going to go down another path to help you grow, and for me to grow, together.

I was tired, and I was hungry, and I heard there was food, so that was my excuse to go to a singles Christian group after work.

So I did the customary sign-in, obtained my pass-- you know, those white sticky ones that says, "Hello, My Name Is"?

Well, there was hardly any food left after a trauma at the hospital caused me to be late, so I sat at a table-- next to the food-- and introduced myself to three guys sitting across from me.

And I gave them that look, and it said, "Don't even go there.

I'm here for the food, and then I'm leaving."

(laughter) So then I thought, "Mmm, I think I'll work on some chicken wings."

And the minister got up, and started a discussion about how his trip to the Middle East went, and how he worked with injured refugees.

And then the pastor's eyes met mine, and I became frozen, trying to listen to his words.

Tears started welling up in my eyes.

I could no longer chew.

Surely, he thought he'd connected with me spiritually, as he passed by and patted my shoulder.

But all I could think about was, "Somebody put hot sauce all over these wings!

I thought it was barbecue sauce!"

(laughter) And I looked at the guy across, and I begged him and for, for his water.

And he had this hair, this curly hair, that fanned out like Krusty the Clown from The Simpsons.

And he smirked at me and slid the glass cross.

Well, things started to wind down, and the minister said, "Why don't we all rise, and hold hands, and say a prayer to end the meeting?"

And I'm like, "I don't even go to this church!"

I mean, I've been to church, but we never held hands.

And anyway, it is I who grabs the hand to help you heal, to help you unburden, to help you die.

I am the nurse.

Yet, Krusty the Clown is holding this nurse's hand, this lonely, hungry soul of a single parent of 16 years, and I started to have feelings again, and the prayer began.

I thought, "I'm going to go back "to these potlucks on Wednesdays.

Maybe I'll meet somebody, after all."

Months went by, and I didn't even get a date, not even close to a date.

And I went home and I crawled into bed.

But I thought, "I'm going to reach out to that one person that has always been there for me."

I said, "Dear God, I can be single so long as you love me," and I fell asleep, and I woke up to an extremely cold house.

The 30-year-old furnace finally broke, and it was Wednesday so I went to the meeting, and all I could think of was, "I need an electrician to fix my furnace."

So I whispered to the minister, and asked him about what my need was, and if I needed an electrician and... ...he pointed out the electrician in the group.

It was Krusty the Clown!

(laughter) I swallowed my pride and I... ...asked him for his help.

And he came over for six weeks, every Wednesday night he was there, fixing the furnace.

And it was getting cold, and I thought, "How long does this take?

It's freezing!"

It was in November by then, so I had to figure out a way to confront him.

So I went downstairs where he was working, and I said, "You know, I'm a nurse, "and I have a license.

"And as a nurse, I carry this license "so that the public is assured "of my qualifications.

"Now, I know that you've worked hard here, but you know, "I need a licensed electrician.

"If you're a handyman, that's okay, I'll just pay you."

And he looked at me and his right eyebrow started to twitch.

And I said, "Oh no, this is not good."

And he pulled out a stack of cards out of his pocket, and he asked me to open my hand, and he goes, "This is my Washington State electrical license, "this is my Oregon State electrical license, "this is my master electrical license, and this is my union card."

Then he pulled out the final piece of paper, and it kept unfolding, and unfolding, and unfolding.

And I realized it was a diagram of my internal workings of my furnace.

And he says, "And the reason why your furnace is taking so long to fix," and he pointed to the middle of the diagram and said, "They don't make this part anymore.

"I've had to have machine shop it.

I'll install it now and I'll be on my way."

Nobody ever put me in my place like that in years... ...and I loved it.

(laughter) And in fact, I loved his brown eyes, the way they shined through his glasses.

And I did love the way he held my hand that night at church.

And he was so smart and kind.

And in fact, when I paid him for fixing my furnace, he only accepted $100, saying, "He knew how tough it was to be a single parent," and that's when I fell in love.

I didn't hear him... from him in a while.

It's been weeks, (sighing): and I missed him terribly.

It was nice to have somebody to talk to.

So a couple more weeks went by, and I hear my son answering the phone, and he's telling the guy, "She's in the bathroom, dyeing her hair."

And I'm like... (sighs) And then I hear him say, "It's that guy that fixed our furnace."

So I wrap my towel around my head, and I go to the phone, and I assume the guy's just checking on his work, and sure enough, he was.

But then he said, before he hung up, "You know, do you want to go out?

"I made $100 from this crazy lady, I fixed her furnace a couple of weeks ago."

And he goes, "I know a nice place, and they have a license to serve food, too."

(laughter) We were married four months later.

We've been married 22 years.

And my Krusty's real name is Gary, here in the audience.

(cheers and applause) And after a haircut, he looks like this E.R.

nurse's George Clooney now.

(laughter, cheers and applause) We still go to that church, and we still have that furnace, but it's wrapped in duct tape, and like us, it keeps us all together.

Thank you.

(cheers and applause)