At the local comedy club they have a workshop pre-show at the open mike. It is my favorite/most detestable thing in comedy. New comics (and old pros working on new stuff) get up in front of 10-20 comics and try out their new stuff. It sucks ass, but the golden moments are worth it.
My pal Dan Swartwout has been doing comedy for well over a decade, traveled the US, and achieved about as much success as anyone that’s came through there. Once, he had some ideas on a sheet of paper and a newb that had never done comedy before raised their hand and said, “You shouldn’t read jokes off paper.” The amicable Dan’s face turned into a tempest of hate and rage as he suffered this insult. It was great. It’s the comedy equivalent of a senior QB dropping back in practice and a freshman D-lineman telling him his footwork sucks.
Two hilariously awkward situations – one, the guy who does a joke SO bad, no one can offer an assemblance of advice. Easy advice is “shorten the intro” or “add this line.” When no one says a word and everyone is staring at the floor, it makes me uncomfortable. Two, when an newbie makes such a huge mistake and argues w/ good advice. Once, an older hyper guy said this: “So my friend got out of rehab, right? He can eat more than anyone I’ve ever met.” I chimed in, “What about the rehab? You should talk about that.” Him: “No, that’s not the point.” Me: “Then why bring it up?” Him: “It’s important to the joke.” Me: “Do it your way, then, forget I said anything.” He bombed so bad that night, I’m pretty sure he lives under an assumed name. I no longer workshop or give advice. Give me blog material, puppets!
I’ve banned myself from sitting in the front rows of the workshop. I was putting my head in my hands too often. I can’t control that or my horrified facial reactions.
I can’t make eye contact half the time.
Well, I really hope Dan learned his lesson and came back stronger and better than ever the next week.