Month: April 2013

Tonight will be the debut of open mike night comedy at Rehab Tavern.  Rehab, as in the decor, not everyone there quit drinking.  That would be dumb, having a bar full of sober people.  Open mikes are key for comedians, since you can’t exactly practice your craft in front of your dog or cat.  Well, you can, but then you’re not a comedian, you’re a whack job like David Berkowitz.

I haven’t ran my own show for quite a while.  I’ve put together several gigs, mostly in my hometown of Zanesville, but due to bars going out of business or the person I dealt with going to prison, those have all ended.  It should be good, plus I think I will mix it up for the crowd – perhaps like making the worst received act of the evening slice off a finger or toe.  People like violent entertainment.  One nut job that did comedy several years ago proposed doing a toughman competition with comedians.  I don’t know what happened to that guy, but he’s probably in prison with my former contact from the last show I ran.  I hope so.

 

Another open mike, another hilarious run in with newbies.  They say public speaking is the biggest fear people have.  This must be true, because the new comic the other night was a former crack addict and prostitute.  Really.  Yet, despite having sex with strange men regularly, she did about three minutes and froze up.  She then ran off stage, meaning as emcee, I had to sprint to the mike.  Public speaking may be rough, but I think I’ll take that over sex with strangers for crack money.  Just my thoughts on the issue.

Of course, almost as great was another new guy who decided to do bit on showering with other men in the locker room.  “I saw a lot of dicks.”  Then he lost his place.  He stopped, pulled out his notes, read them quickly.  “I remember now, I saw a lot of dicks in the shower.”  I haven’t seen a lot of penises in my day, but I don’t need notes about it or have any desire to write “Remember the dicks” on a sheet of paper someone can find.

I had a market research study yesterday.  We got into groups of three to do a little meet and greet to loosen us up to later spill our guts about their product.  The first guy was pretty normal, the second not really.  Dirty jeans, a neck tattoo that I couldn’t figure out what it was, and a couple of rotten teeth.  How did I know about his teeth?  He volunteered that info pretty quickly.

He asked me what I did for fun.  I decided to try and be a little humorous so I said, “Drink.”  Not that this is untrue, but whatever.  He replied, “I like to play with my kids.”  That’s nice.  “Do you have any kids?”  Nope.  “How old are you?”  34.  “You should look at settling down, man.”  At this point I was infinitely annoyed, but played along.  How many do you have?  “Three kids.  With three women.”  I scanned his countenance for a hint of sarcasm, but none was to be found.  Ah, settling down, I see.  Thanks for the advice, stranger.  Any investments I should look into?  Since I am talking to such a distinguished blueblood, I figured I would take some sound counsel.

I don’t understand the Food Network.  Americans eat out more now than at any other time, but tune in to every cooking show around.  Also, I don’t get the point of getting good food with a time restraint.  You want that cooked how?  How about no, since I have five minutes.  Enjoy raw meat.  Then again, Americans are more obese than ever before, so maybe we watch food shows after stuffing our fat asses at a buffet to plan for the next orgy of calories.

My favorite shows are the ones where some smug, usually British for some reason, asshole goes into restaurants and starts screaming at everyone.  I’m not smug, but do like yelling at people.  I need to work on my British accent and I may have a future.  Unfortunately, my food knowledge pretty much covers ground beef, canned meats, and cheese…melted over one of the meats.

I saw my current city, Columbus, Ohio, was named the most intelligent city in America.  Having read the opinion section of the newspaper, walked around and met her proud citizens, and frequented the bars, I am now fearful for the future of my country.  Just yesterday I read letters to the editor in the Columbus Dispatch.  One writer said he supported gay civil unions, but if we passed gay marriage, we were subject to the wrath of God.  Yes, I’m sure the Lord’s terrible judgement is that specific over the English language.  Another mentioned that the key to fixing the country’s problems was through the suggestions of a congressman who has been in Washington for over three decades.  Ah, Congress will fix everything.  Perfect idea, especially when their approval rating is hovering around 12%, our debt is over 16 trillion and they haven’t passed a budget in four years.

Then again, New York addresses its major issues of banning large sodas (you can just order two smaller ones), you can’t order alcohol in most parts of Kentucky (the Bourbon state, no less) and I saw a snowstorm when I was in Dallas that prompted four hillbillies to hang on to the back of a car riding on top of trash can lids down a major four lane road.  One slipped and shot through the intersection, rolling over a moving car’s hood.  Maybe my new home isn’t so dumb after all.  Plus I live here, that’s a pretty good advantage.  In other news, Columbus’s Busch Light consumption is now second only to Jackson, Mississippi and third now on cities with the hairiest asses behind only two Eastern European towns.  You’re welcome Columbus.  Just doin’ my part.

I knew last week’s show was going to different than normal when I got a call several days before asking me what intro music I wanted.  Having been the only white guy on urban shows before, I knew I was getting token white guy music, so I said I didn’t care.  I was expecting Kid Rock or Eminem, which are the go to choices, but secretly hoping Vanilla Ice didn’t sneak in.  I was wrong.  Every other comic got a rap song, in which they rapped the first parts of their act.  My intro music?  Nothing.  Silence.  The DJ decided, apparently, because I didn’t request a song, it would help smooth over the intro by the awkward and deafening sound of glaring quietness.  Thanks!

My start aside, I had a few good jokes hit early, then completely lost the crowd on my fourth joke, one about some hillbillies blaming a guy throwing marshmallows at people on Obama.  Why did I lose the crowd?  Not sure, but it happened.  I battled back, but one table hated me right up front, which was weird, because a table right behind them loved me.  It is truly a strange thing, to look up and see apathy/hate sitting right next to a table losing their minds.

I could tell the crowd was tired of me, so I wrapped up, apparently one joke too late (bomb).  Oh well.  I got off and the next guy went up and did almost an hour (supposed to do 30 minutes), mostly thanks to reading off his sheet of paper he brought onstage.  Afterwards, he gave me some advice about using a better icebreaker to start my set.  This pissed me off because 1) my start was pretty good, 2) he was telling me to steal someone else’s material and 3) HE WAS READING OFF A SHEET OF PAPER.  Sadly, his set went better than mine, so maybe I should take some advice…or get a cheat sheet.