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I did a show (comedy, FYI) at a GLBT bar Sunday night.  It was awesome (I got laughs, FYI).  I noticed this bar was not the same as most of my venues.  I went to take a leak and the bathroom door said “Gay Boys.”  I don’t know what the other one said, so I rolled with the punches.  A lot of pictures of six packs in there (not Busch Light…dudes).  No gloryholes, though, not that was I was hoping…

I did my “gay” set with about six homosexual related jokes and got off to a great start.  I did about 20 minutes and had a good time.  I did so well, a lesbian bought me a delicious beer after my set.  That is probably the first and only time that will happen in my life, but it was nice.  Hey, we have one thing in common, am I right!  I should be punched for that last sentence.

The important thing for me is that I did a room that I am completely not used to in the least.  As a new comic, I used to fear older people in rooms b/c I was so raw and vulgar.  I feel if you want to improve, you have to tackle your weaknesses head on.  My top merchandise selling show ever?  A senior center in Shelby, Ohio.  Give me your social security cash, granny!  (It was mostly middle aged folks, old people don’t stay up past nine pm.)  How could I know if GLBT crowds would laugh at me?  Do the show.  Life is like that – how do you know you’ll like a food unless you try it.  I feel like I just wrote an Avril Lavigne song.  Yuck.

Everyone has weird jobs.  I used to tag along w/ Mom and help clean houses.  At age 7, I knew how to do laundry, dust, vacuum, and the like.  I was quite the little princess.  My first real job other than mowing lawns for old people was installing facia and soffet at the fair for my Uncle Tom.  Everything was fine until a piece of aluminum hit me in the eye off the saw and then I smashed my thumb with a hammer trying to drive a nail through double paned alum siding.  I tossed my hammer like the mighty Thor and unleashed my first work meltdown of many.

At 16, I worked for Revco as a stock boy that also had to run the cash register.  I loved when the first of month coincided with senior discount Wednesdays!  White trash and cheap old people…what could be better?  I also bagged groceries at the “poor” grocery store.  I remember asking a woman “paper or plastic” when I looked up and saw she had some skin disease.  She had raised bumps covered in thick, black hair from head to toe.  I literally convulsed as she hatedly stared at my visceral reaction.  I still shudder over that one.

I one time had a job doing customer service.  This is why I am very nice to customer service folks now.  I broke so many phones smashing them into the counter, I used every spare in the building and I was told from that point forward, it would be coming out of my paycheck.  I didn’t break anymore phones, but I did throw a lot of office supplies around.  My least favorite phone call of all time is the husband/wife combo call.  This is where either the husband or wife who doesn’t know anything makes the call while the other one, the aggressor, screams in the background the whole time.  Just put the verbal abuser on the phone.  This call is usually involving old people or poor white trash for some reason…  Enjoy your Monday, only 40 hours to go!

Blog is short today.  Got home before three, up at 6:45 after last night’s show.  To let you know how insane I am, I sold one t-shirt after the show…which doubled my profit after gasoline was taken out.  Off to make the donuts, as they say.  I may snort my coffee today, seems more effective in theory.

I took my dog to our softball finale last night and he loved it.  Not to be that guy, but everyone loves my dog – thus the blog.  My parents called in 2004 and said a stray Golden Retriever wandered in the neighborhood.  They had two and asked if I would take him.  He was fully grown, but rail thin (hookworms, whipworms, and eating out of trash piles will do that).  I named him Stringbean Staley (after Alice in Chains lead singer Layne) Coen.  My first dog was Joe Camel Coen, what am I going to do, name him Phil?  Dogs deserve dumb names.

Bean is the most loyal dog ever, but also the biggest pussy for a 93 lb. dog ever (he put on weight once I got him).  They put a new street sign up at my condo and for over a year he took a wide berth and stared at it like it was firing bullets at him.  A vet told me he was beaten.  If I had three wishes, one would be to rule the world.  #2 would be to rule the world.  #3 would be to find that son of bitch that beat his housebroken Golden and let him know no one messes with my boy (I’ll never have children, this is all I have) as I beat him into a state of paralysis.

I got him neutered b/c he is quite the rapist.  Post surgery, he has still nailed two bitches.  The best was two years after losing his jumblies, he still mounted a female in heat and got stuck.  The owner was losing his mind and it was 3 am, so we were pretty loaded.  He screamed for me to do something, so I pushed him, but they were “locked”.  They stood ass to ass until the lady’s lady parts released ol’ Beano.  It looked like a two barrelled gun as they shot off in two directions at mach 2.  By the way, try chasing a dog drunk while laughing…

My favorite part of having a dog is that I degrade him verbally and he wags his tail every time.  “Hi stupid!  Did you eat your own poop today?  You’re so dumb!  (Tail wagging)  I hate you Bean!  Get a job, stupid hippie Bean!  (Tail wagging more vigorously).  It’s like I have my own “Muggsy” from the Bugs Bunny cartoons.  “Duh, which way did he go boss?”  “Shut up Muggsy.  Shut up shuttin’ up.”  I love dogs.

I just got the most important show of my career.  August 24th, 7:30 pm, Columbus Funny Bone.  I have my “feature showcase.”  This is where I audition in front of a live crowd for the chance to feature (middle act) at clubs all over the United States.  I will be doing 12-20 minutes and I need everyone to brush off catching up on DVR and get to the club.  www.columbusfunnybone.com.

If you can make it, you get a cheap show with up and comers from all over the US trying out for their shot.  If you can’t, remember, I own a gun and I will file the serial number off and find you.  Just kidding, I will beat you to death with my bare hands.  In all seriousness, this is the most important show I’ve ever done and if you show up, I may kiss you on the mouth or fill in the blank.  August 24, 7:30 pm, Columbus, OH.  Tickets at 614-471-JOKE or www.columbusfunnybone.com.  God Bless America.  Think Doc Holliday at the end of Tombstone.  “Wyatt, if you ever were my friend.  If you ever had the slighest feeling for me, go see Chris Coen at the Funny Bone August 24th.  Please.”  I love the scene b/c it’s about me.

If not…

I have been doing stand up for over four years now, not counting the one open mike I did at a bar at Easton mall in 2004.  That fine show involved a huge gong behind the mike.  I was the only comic not to get the dreaded gong.  In fairness, I brought nine of the 20 people, I think only one of the rest was paying attention.  Or I was a prodigy.  That sounds better.  Let’s stick w/ that.

People ask me if I do this full time.  I would love to, but I like to live in a house, own a car, and oh, yes – eat food not found in a dumpster.  When I first started, I heard it took 7-10 years to make a living doing comedy and I scoffed at these naysayers.  After all, I got solid laughs at least every other time I performed.  Now I realize they’re probably right, b/c I still work 40 hours a week.  That said, other than two days for a camping/concert trip, I use all my sick days, vacation, and personal days to travel for comedy.  This is a fine plan, as long as you 1) Have 40 days’ vacation or 2) Never get sick and can go w/out sleep.

My worst was a show in Morgantown, WV at the now out of business Club Octane.  The show was supposed to start at nine, with some WVU students (3-5 total) doing five minutes each.  Well, b/c college students are animals, no one showed up until 10:30 and the show was a mere hour and 45 minutes late.  Ten comics showed up and every single one went over time.  My personal favorite was the MC, who did at least three minutes b/w every comic.  I told him to button it up and he ignored me.  Then I threatened to beat his ass, so he kept it to two minutes for the last comic before.  The last one was a theater major and very drunk chick who had been heckling everyone all show (most deservedly, unfortunately).  She was so bad, 20 of the 50 patrons walked out during her seven minutes of hell.

I walked onstage at midnight, in a very foul mood.  A few minutes in, mommy’s mistake started heckling me.  I proceeded to tell her I would have her cutting her wrists in one minute if she wanted to keep up.  A string of four letter words and several pointed insults about her appearance later, she ran out in shame.  I got done and left at one staring at a four hour drive.  I then went to work at 7:45 am and pulled an eight hour shift.  That’s why when I see a new open miker ask about getting paid work after one five minute bomb of a set, I just smile, knowing the Hindenburg that is their dreams is about to go down.  You’ll quit in a month and the cycle begins anew.  Pick up a guitar, learn a G chord, then ask Columbia when you get your record deal – same logic.