And other things as well...

Tonight I was barking for a comedy show on the corner of 34th Street and 2nd Avenue. The comedy show for which I was attempting to draw a crowd was at a Caribbean restaurant called the Pine Tree Lodge. I can't believe that I forgot, during my set, to ask how many pine trees there are in the Caribbean. I don't think I was put on a good corner to bark. It was directly in front of a building which must have some sort of high end gym in it, because the majority of people passing me by were absolutely miserable looking yuppies. I know you have to dress the part when you go to the gym--t-shirt, shorts, sneakers, maybe a headband if you're feeling saucy--but there's something about these people that just exuded misery. They weren't going to the gym because they enjoyed working out, or because they wanted to be healthy, or happy, or because they wanted to be in good shape--no, for them, I think, it was a type of penance. A self punishment. Remember in Da Vinci code when the pale supermonk would self-flagellate as part of some absurd purification ritual? I think it's like that for these people. That it's about punishing yourself for not being good enough. Strong enough. Not making enough money, maybe. For needing to go to the gym, for not having a come back when the office clown was picking on you, for not fucking that girl, or sleeping with that guy when you had the chance, or maybe, for doing it. I don't know what they're punishing themselves for, but I do know that afterwards, they are in absolutely no mood to go to a stand-up comedy show. I don't know who IS in the mood for them. I only do bar shows, really. Which means, hardly anyone is actually there to see the shows. I have no idea what kind of audience a real comedy club has.

My friends and I would go to comedy clubs occasionally before we were 21 and could drink. Comedy clubs don't care, they let you in, so you can pay the cover plus the two drink.

My girlfriend said a lot of stand-up comedy is dudes talking about their dicks and other irrelevant things. I must have been feeling particularly meta that day because I immediately wrote a joke about it. But I can't tell you what it is. You have to come to one of my shows for that.

If I ever do another one that is. The last "real" show I did was, I think, in 2007. It was a bringer show, which means I had to convince 5 friends to pay the full cover plus the two drink minimum to see me, some other dumb schmuck and Black Guy from Chappelle's Show Who Isn't Dave Chappelle or Charlie Murphy do stand-up on a Tuesday night. Before the show began, the owner or the club came and dressed me down in front of everyone for having my notes open. Then, this giant condescending prick monger clapped me on the shoulder and said "have a good show." What I actually had was the worst show I've ever done. That whole night, there was a miasma of misunderstandings and bitterness around anything I said or did. The host of the show referenced looking like Screech from Saved by the Bell. I went on stage and referenced that as well. He later, gave me a very serious talk, about how HE could say he looked like Screech, but I shouldn't do it. Right. Because comics NEVER talk shit about each other. Some other night I could have pulled it off, but on this night, everything from my mouth was cursed. He got very angry at me.

I stopped doing stand-up comedy after that, until last year. Now, I'm back, and I'm getting myself mentally psyched to do my next "real" show. Still, it's hard to know how to act. Hanging out with comedians is not like hanging out with regular people. In a regular group of people, some people are funny, some aren't, some are hams, some are reserved, some are laid-back, some are energetic. Maybe it's also like that with comics but I've been assuming they're different so it's a self fulfilling prophecy? I wish I knew. There's some secret to negotiating relationships and interactions when I'm around other comics that I haven't figured out yet. Maybe it's just be natural and be yourself. That's the advice I can imagine people giving me. But how I act around people is based on what I expect from them, I think. Obviously, I expect something from other comedians, and so I trip all over myself. Subconsciously, whatever it is I am expecting must make me very nervous. I think I can defeat it however.

I like being a stand-up comedian though. That is, I like doing it. I like being on a stage and I like when my jokes work and I like when I feel like I'm doing what I always said I was going to do. Who remembers when I said it in high school? I'm sort of, mostly, doing it now. Of course, I have to work a lot harder. The stand ups I know do a show every night, or almost every night. Seeing their facebook profiles makes me queasy: Schmucky Schmuckerson is doing a show this night and this night and this night and this night. Boris Zilberman is fucking reading about it. They all have pictures of themselves with microphones. The microphone is more associated with stand-up comedy than any other genre of performance, I believe, except maybe rap music. The two aren't unrelated. Which is a pretentious way of saying they're related. Rap music, especially rap battles, are won by wit. What can you say that no one would have thought of, but that is glaringly obvious? This is what makes good comedy funny as well. Then there's Akon and Dane Cook.

I'm not sure where I'm ending this. I recently lost my job. I may or may not receive unemployment. If I don't, I honestly don't know what I'll do. Maybe write some jokes about it?

As per usual, so no one thinks I'm too grumpy, here's a Macho Man Randy Savage promo:



Your mustache is crooked.