I did a show this past weekend during Independent’s Day Festival in Columbus. It’s a grab bag of small business, booze, art and music where they block off the street and toss it all together. Basically, it’s a great excuse for people to get drunk in the street. I like it.
Good news – a lot of people at the show. Bad news – a lot of people barge into the show, order a beer, yell randomness and leave. It’s not unexpected, so at least you have that going for you. I heard one comic lament asking for the crowd’s opinion as garbled nonsense was hollered from the back. The only thing worse than being heckled is being heckled by a drunk mushmouth because you can’t formulate a decent counterattack when you hear what is either “Your mom is cheese!” or “Heyahfartensteinen!”
The other strange dynamic about that format – open to anyone – is the ebb and flow. I got up to a smaller crowd, but the tables were completely full and engaged. They paid enough attention to send up a shot when I announced I was a new father. That’s a strange ritual that happens in comedy too sometimes. I did a show in rural Michigan once and had four shots sent up in 30 minutes. I asked the bartender if they kept a taxi on retainer for the comics. “There ain’t no taxi in this town!” I then asked if they got a kickback from DUI convictions on comedians. She just giggled. I drank water the rest of the show.