Amy Schumer Doesn’t Care
Turns out, Schumer knows that Rivers was my friend for 25 years, and as soon as we get settled on the plane, it’s the first thing she mentions. “When I heard she had died, I was like, ‘Well, that’s not possible.’ It really fucked me up.” Just then, our flight attendant, Sahel, comes over to tell Schumer that they have her favorite Chardonnay onboard. “This is not a Chardonnay kind of day for me,” says Schumer, who has a nasty cold. I tell her about the time Rivers was on an overnight flight, and as it was about to land, the flight attendant leaned down to offer her breakfast. “Chicken and eggs?” said Rivers. “On the same plate? What is that, the mother-daughter special?” Schumer lets out a big laugh, as it is classic Joan but it is also a joke that could easily have come from Schumer’s brain. She is lightning fast and whip smart, a New York Jew with a copy of the Times tucked into her bag. Her worldview is surprisingly broad for someone who has made a career out of playing “the drunk slut” for laughs and talks about her pussy so much that anyone is now free to say that word on her network.
