Showtime At The Apollo's : The Wildman of Arizona

The Wildman of Arizona.

I’m under the stage in the dressing room hallway at the Scottsdale center for the Art Auditorium in Arizona. I’m pacing back and forth dance walking, which consist of jerking arms by my side and my legs going along with them. I’ve been going at this nonstop ever since I arrived here. I’m getting ready, visualizing in my mind. The other contestants are waiting in the dressing rooms to go on and they are all starting to get a little uncomfortable with me. I’m cool though, this is what I do. This is how I get ready.

Get Ready for what? It was their Arizona stop for Showtime at the Apollo’s World Tour. I went through the audition process, which another story but let me thank the kids dance troupe of 30 that absolutely loved my material, and I was in.

I’m 2 away now and just drank 3 red bulls in a row right before this, trying to loosen myself up but my legs are still numb. I haven’t stopped moving for the past 3 hours, so I should be pretty god damned loose. I was looking for something to pump me up, I tried singing Einem’s Loose Yourself but all I knew is “You have one shot, one chance…” I don’t even know if that is right, I just kept on singing that line over and over.

I’m next but before they call me out, I don’t know what their rational of thinking was, they have “A professional” woman comedian come on before me, because the audience is just loving the comedian host already. She bombs, and they start booing her. And their boos trickle onto the host who introduces me with, “Our next contestant a comedian…” Unleash the boos. I’m still standing off stage, my name hasn’t even been said yet and I’m getting booed. “Adrian Quihuis,” “Booo!!!” yell the audience.

Feet don’t fail me now, I groove my way out there, rub the tree of hope, as the boos don’t stop and keep getting louder and louder. I dance my way to the Mic. “The robot.” I do my robot dance. “Running Man” I do my running man dance. “Washing the dishes.” I do my washing the dishes dance. “The ceiling fan” The sirens come on and the crazy homeless man dances out to come and get me. I put on some funky dance moves for salvation while I exit after being booed off the stage.

My family, friends, relatives all came to watch me for 45 seconds of the audience booing at me and as much as it was all fun and entertainment having an auditorium full of people booing at me with hatred, it’s not something they are used to or anyone would be used to. My youngest brother in tears, couldn’t understand why everyone hated me. They were all sort of hurt in a way, but they give me hugs and that was that.

A voice message. It’s a year later, I’m living in the outskirts of Korea town. Paradise. It’s my mom, she says there’s a woman from the Apollo and she loved my routine at the audition and wants me to perform it again live on stage for Showtime at the Apollo, in Harlem, in New York on National Television.

Let’s Rock n Roll.

3 weeks later I’m in Newark airport in Jersey, getting picked up by my friend John in the evening.

1 day until Showtime.

Now going into this I had to get ready, I’m mean, this ain’t no St. Andrew’s Church, Life Teen Talent Show. It’s fucking Showtime at the Apollo. Now looking back at my performance, I got booed off, quite convincingly, pretty much before my name was said. So why would they want me there? And I figured it out, they’re throwing me to the wolves, I am the sacrifice for the unruly Vultures of the Harlem audience. Give them someone to boo and wap wap so they’ll be satisfied.

Alright, alright, they want to throw me to the wolves. They don’t think I can win. They don’t think I have a chance. Alright, alright.

Tomorrow will be my Swan Song.

That evening, instead of enjoying New York the city life, we spent most it searching for an Art supply store or a Halloween shop, we found one and just in time.

We head back to Jersey and hang out in a college bar till 2 am, the crashed out about 3.

Today I will go down in a blaze of glory.

We get an hour of sleep for the biggest performance of my life. We’re late, we skip breakfast, thinking they’ll have some. Call time is 6 am, we get there and sit for the next 4 hours, no food or no refreshments. My show is the second of the 3 that day. We head to the backstage music room which is being used as the waiting room and wait for our turn. John is with me this whole time and every so often we look at each other and start laughing. “What the fuck am I doing?”

The first show ends. John leaves to go get a seat. I go to get ready and head to the dressing/ bathrooms, and into one of the stalls.

Head back to the waiting room as they clear the audience out for the next show. It’s lunch time for the crew, not us, the crew. One few white guys of the production team sits next to me with his lemon pepper chicken. He glances at me. “What do you do?” he says.
I smile, because I know where he is going with this.
“I’m a comedian.”
“That’s what I thought. Just to let you know, the audience doesn’t really like comics. Here’s a tip, the audience is black and they love black soulful singers. There was a comic yesterday and he got booed right off the stage during the first joke.”
I smile again at him, “I know what I’m doing. I got it.”
“Ok, if you know what you are doing.”
“I do.”
The last stop until Showtime, the green room. We’re up but we still wait, but in the waiting process, I do an interview with Kid, from ‘Kid n Play’ fame. 1980’s. House Party 1-7. I answer all my questions to future Adrian watching in Arizona 3 weeks from now. It sort of freaks Kid out. I then riled up a kids dance troop to chasing me around the room and then have their supervisor yell at them. Nice.

It was my time to get focused, they bring me on stage level. There’s 2 people in front of me. 2 black soulful singers and they bring the house down, the audience is loving it, they are in a fucking frenzy. I’m thinking, the crowd is up, they’re digging it, the energy is great, they want me. I’m off stage jumping around, my body is convulsing in dance.

Then the stage manager asks me, “Do you want the microphone stand on stage.” “Uh yeah” “Ok don’t go on yet.” The black soulful singer that has the crowd loving him ends. Monique goes up, “my next contestant is a 23 year old comedian, named Adrian ” I don’t go out. The microphone stands is set and they start back over again. Monique messes up my name again and we cut for a 5 minute break.

The audience that I had, that was in a frenzy, gone. They are now pissed and actually start heckling me, “Yo Adrian.” “Come on out, what are you scared of.” They’re a rowdy bunch.

Now this is it. Monique wobbles her way on stage. “… Adrian kaweez” It’s a crazy unbelievable feeling coming around the curtain and seeing lights blasting on you, the theater in maximum capacity and full of vultures waiting for you to fail. 3 floors watching for that single mistake.

I rub the tree of hope, and start dancing away towards the microphone. Do some twinkle toes, into a spin then down for the splits, I pop back up, lean into the mic, “The robot” There is grumbling that is starting to rise from the crowd “The Running man”. The boos rein down. “Washing the dishes,”. The chant of “wap wap” runs wild. I give a laugh filled sigh. “Hugh” “the ceiling fan.” I spin around doing 2 rotations then turn my back to the audience.
They start yelling and booing, John in the 2nd balcony said, they were yelling out, “fuck you, get off the fucking stage!” “I’ll fucking kill you!”




I pull my shirt off and I turn back around and I am colored all green, my face, my chest, my arms, all green. I am The Hulk. I crouch and hunch over flexing my muscles and roaring at the audience. “Rooar!!” I then face another side of the audience and roar again I have this possessed look on my face. No one is coming out, the band isn’t playing, so I keep roaring. My friend said that when I started to turn into the Hulk, some of the band members started to get up and leave. “Roar” Finally the siren come on, and the hip hop tap dancer bounces on down from the side balcony. He’s sort of taken back by me, he corrals me and points me in the direction, and softly says, “go.” He guides me off stage as I am still roaring at the crowd.

The Aftermath

I come off the stage from everything being a blur to slow motion, timeless, and into my celebration march. Backstage people come up from the wood works right up to me, giving me high fives, congratulating me, patting me on the back, still laughing from what they just saw, Monique goes on a ten minute rant on the whole thing. Kid comes over and gives me some dap. I walk by and people give me thumbs up from a distance, I get the stare, laugh and the shake of the head. A production crew guy comes out to see me and says that was the best thing he’s even seen. The show ends and I grab my stuff and head out to go meet John in the lobby where the whole black audience that just watched the show is leaving. They see me and they all stop exiting. People next to me take a couple of steps back, giving me space. Clap, Clap, Clap the lobby burst into applause and laughter, screams of the Hulk. They make a path for me and I take it to the door. As I walk by hands pop out for handshakes, pats on the back, more compliments, pictures flashing, then pictures taken with me and their families. I head out onto the street and people ordering in McDonalds, that just saw the show rush on out just yell ‘Hulk’ and wave. More pictures with families as we make our way to the car. A couple of blocks away cars drive by screaming, “Hulk!”

When it aired on tv, my aunt and uncle that were there for the show in Arizona, they watched and I guess was expecting the same thing. They said they were speechless and didn’t move for 20 minutes. My performance was on the highlight show and they replay the Hulk from time to time.

As I was heading out of the theater after the show I bumped into the producer, I auditioned for her back in Arizona and she’s the one that called me to perform in Harlem. She did a double take and then looked at me and went, “Adrian, you’re a Wildman.”

I replied, “Yes I am.”