So you’re tired from life in the real world on a Sunday, but you go to a comedy show late on Monday night, because they said they’d give you five minutes.
You swallow your shyness and act normal, introduce yourself to the guy that runs the show and buy a glass of wine. Wine not beer, ’cause it’s fucking California and you’ve become a lightweight anyway. It’s always easier for you to nurse a glass of vino over a beer that you’d just end up drinking like water.
The chick hosting is young and new and has all that young, new hip chick brashness that you find grating and unfunny. Yay. Whatever.
Stupidly, you assume the guy who runs the show will give her a nod to who you are, since, um, that’s why you introduced yourself and pointed yourself out and like acted kind of sort of professional. You’ve actually been sitting directly in the host chick’s line of vision, since mostly she’s facing away from the stage the whole show.
Anyway, dumb assumption on her figuring out, being told, knowing who you are. Whatever.
She introduces you — “Um, since I couldn’t find Denise, um, if your name is Denise…” (You’re actually standing at the edge of the stage directly in front of her and have been since she got up there, since she hasn’t been saying anything between acts other than who’s next. You make eye contact and say your name.)
“Oh, OK, yeah, here’s a good introduction, um the next performer is great and funny. Denise.”
Awkward hand-shake transition.
Fucking yay.
Mostly the show was in my unhumble opinion full of hacks and show offs. Almost everyone seemed abnormally loud. Two guys were honestly good. One chick was pretty OK. You were wholly adequate. Some laughs, some nerves, some trying to edit on the fly as a personal lesson for the day.
On the ride home, all you can think is “Why the fuck do I do shit like this?”
“Why did I leave my boyfriend, who has to get up early, and a relaxing evening to be with strangers who annoy the piss out of me?”
Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose, and comedy is just another word for fucking masochism writ pretty damn large.