I did a new room Sunday night to help my buddy Bob Cook out. It was pretty awful. He is a vet of comedy for over a decade and the five crowd members didn’t much care. He opened the show and began searching his phone for a laugh track to play, but someone in the “crowd” beat him to the punch. It was the biggest laugh anyone got. At one point, one comic was rudely treated to the Price is Right failure noise – bum bum ba dum; Ahhhhhh… That was the second biggest laugh anyone got.
I then did a show where 90% of the 80 people were there for one new comic. It was horrible. I was trying to be nice, but they were chanting his name like it was Monday Night Raw. I must be getting older, b/c I was gracious and accomodating. I finally snapped and began scolding them like an old man with a serious kids on lawn problem. Oh well, they hate me. The good and sad part about comedy is if you bomb, no one remembers your name. If you kill, one person, usually a fat, drunk white guy who is possibly hitting on you checks out chriscoencomedy.com every day for the next two years. Bombing = nothing bad. Killing = 20 blog hits a month. Not much to lose.