Chandler, Arizona, United States
There's an old saying. If you don't want someone to join a crowd, you ask them, "If everyone were jumping off of a cliff, would you?" Well, I have. So my answer would be "Yes". True story.
Profile continued . . .
My Very First Stand-Up Open Mic Part 4
with love from CRS @ 11:02 AM
this entry brought to you by dva, "tatanc"
(cont'd from yesterday.)
When Kristen and I first got to the bar, we were an hour early, and had sat ourselves up front. She wanted to run outside for a few minutes when the crowd got there, wanting to get one more smoke before the show started, and when we came back, our table was gone. Fellas, let me tell you-- having a female for a wing man is awesome. Because she turned to a cute girl sitting by herself, also up front, and said "Can we sit with you?"
Holy crap. I would have never thought to ask that. A single girl sitting by herself is clearly not looking for someone to come up and bother her, and if I'd had a guy friend with me, I would have felt positively embarrassed if he went up to her cold and said "Can we sit here?" But with Kristen asking it was the most natural thing in the world, hey, do you mind if me, a harmless girl, and my obviously harmless friend invade your personal space? Yes of course we can, I'm a girl and magic just follows me around. Chris, please sit down, you're welcome.
So we tried not to bother her too much, but we chatted a bit with her; I told her I was brand new, she wished me luck, we talked back and forth. After my time was up I sat down, she leaned over and said "You had a really good set!"
I thanked her. She had a good set herself. The thing is, I expected somebody to say "good set". It's what you say. Even back in high school, after a monologue, we'd still say "Hey, great job!" even if we weren't paying any attention. How awful would it have been if nobody said "good set"?
After the show, the host came up to me and shook my hand, saying, "Hey man, nice job. We do this every Wednesday. You're welcome to back any time, it was a lot of fun."
He was the host, though. The host is supposed to make people feel welcome. Again, it would have been weird if the host didn't walk up to me and say "Hey man, that was fun."
Kristen said she wanted a cigarette. We walked outside, and as she smoked, the guest host and a female comic, who I thought handily did the best set of the night, came up to me. "Hi! What was your name again? Where else do you do comedy?"
And it was it this point that I started to let it fill my head a little bit. The best comics of the night assumed I had done comedy before. Honestly, I couldn't have asked for a better compliment. It completely and totally made my entire night. Chatting with comics was half the reason I wanted to do this. If stand-up comedy never works out as a career, I just would like to have friends that are funny. Even if I did stand-up at open mics once a month from here to eternity, I would just like to know people that are funny instead of, well, the assholes who look at me weird and say I am weird or that I think too much when I try to say something funny at work.
It was a cold night, and colder now than it had been when we got there. As the two comics and I were chatting, I looked over at Kristen, who was visibly shivering. "You cold?" I asked.
"Nah, I'm good. Make friends," she said.
But it was fine. She was clearly freezing, and how pathetic would it be if I just stuck around, obviously seeking compliments? I told her we could go.
About an hour after I got home, I got a friend request on Facebook. Oh no, I thought. No. There is no way a comic could be friend requesting me the same night as my first open mic!
...They hadn't. It was a spam bot. Unless there was a female comic whose profile pic was of her naked.