Saturday, October 1, 2011
I had round three of my appearances at the Comedy Store tonight. This time, I was in the Original Room, instead of the Main Room, and this time it was Saturday night instead of Thursday. The Main Room is bigger, but I like the feel in the Original Room. Also, it is the actual original room, where all of the great standups worked out material and did shows a long time ago. It’s fun to say I did a stand up show at the Comedy Store on a Saturday night.
You might recall that I was supposed to do this show in August as well, and I showed up, but couldn’t get anyone to come, so I got bumped to tonight’s show. Tonight I brought 14 people. It’s fun, I had representatives from different parts of my life. It was a House of Representatives of my friends. I had 4 people representing Springfield, 2 representing my first improv class here, 2 representing my second class, 4 representing Traer, IA, and 6 representing work. Ross, who represents Iowa City, almost made it.
It went really well again, as the comics say, I killed it. I like that feeling. It’s not quite the same excitement, since it’s happened before, but it’s still pretty cool.
Honestly, the rest of the show was a bit of a crapshoot.
Here is the show broken down by the numbers:
2 Number of comics that the host couldn’t remember the names of when introducing them.
18 Number of weed jokes.
36 Number of masturbation jokes.
25 Number of sexual intercourse jokes.
28 Number of racist jokes.
33 Number of weed, masturbation, sexual intercourse, and racist jokes that comics before me used that I was planning on using, but couldn’t because they had already been said.
1 Number of giant dildos taken out of a trunk and carried around the room while the opening music to 2001 A Space Odyssey played.
2 Number of nipple tassels being worn by the same comic when he ripped of his shirt later in his set.
25+ Number of minutes for the set of one comic. We were each supposed to have 8 minutes each, but I think the guy that ran the show had stepped out during his set. At about 25 minutes I saw him run back into the room. No lie, it was so long, and the guy was so bad. He was buff, with a lot of tattoos, so no one heckled him due to fear. Somehow he was completely oblivious to how long he was going. I think he had told himself, “I’m going until they tell me to stop,” but no one told him to stop. The safety measures malfunctioned. It’s like he was Deepwater Horizon, and we were the Gulf. All we could do was watch it happen, hoping it would stop, but we were too scared to approach. We tried robots, we tried top kill, but the spewing was too powerful.
The guy who promotes and runs the show finally saw my set. I had done it twice before, but he wasn’t around. He loved my set. I don’t know what that means, but it’s got to help I would think.