One of the Gordian Knots of comedy is figuring out how to do “corporate” gigs. These are shows sponsored by a business or organization. Most comics hear early on that these, much like the elusive river nymph known as a college gig, pay very well. Plus they just sound important. Of course, if you can’t do clean(ish) material, you probably won’t get many of these. When I first started, I was listening to a new comic who was perhaps the filthiest comedian in the room, bragging about doing a corporate gig. I was shocked. How did you get that?, I inquired. “Well, it was the company I work for.” You did it at an official work function? “No, it was during our lunch.” Did it pay well? “I didn’t get paid.” OK, douche, you didn’t do a corporate gig, you annoyed and offended your entire office while they tried to eat reheated casserole.
I got a text last weekend from my pal Dustin for a last second comedy show at a brewery for a private group. It was a cool setting, great beer and food included. Of course, one solitary baked bean, which I hadn’t even ordered, but wasn’t about to turn down, bounced off my fork. I looked in horror as the BBQ sauce managed to stain my shirt in three places about two minutes prior to showtime. I pondered doing the show shirtless, but I was the final comedian, so I managed to sort of clean it off. Classy. Maybe I need to toss a bib into my bag.
The show went well, even though the one drunk lady in the back was yelling for dirty jokes. I have zero problem getting blue and would rather do a show without content restrictions, but I do what the people that pay me say to do. If someone offers enough money, I will write an entire set list about antiquing or eating boogs while I’m dressed like Miley Cyrus. Oh, and by enough money, I mean probably at least 55 bucks.