I finally did it. I finally did an open mic.
It’s weird to say I performed a stand-up set on a Tuesday night, especially at a coffee shop. There’s a feeling of weird accomplishment, like I was initiated into a world unknown.
This all started because my buddy, the hippy, performs in coffee shops every week or so. He invited me to his second performance, ever and it was a pretty interesting experience to see a buddy of yours rock the stage in front of strangers. Granted, they’re all waiting to perform as well, so I’m sure most of them are preoccupied with nailing their own performance.
My buddy thinks I’m funny. So much so, that he really thinks I can do a comedy set. It kind of makes sense, in a selfish way. Usually, I’m watching stand up bits from my favorite comedians and telling him funny stories. I don’t necessarily think I’m very funny, but he thinks so. He says, “Dude, you’re such a comedian, man. You can get up on the mic and tell one of your stories and be awesome!”. If you believe it, it is true, ha!
The place I performed at is a local coffee shop with a niche in comics and games. It’s like a cool, hipster, nerdy place to get coffee. Every Tuesday night is “comedy” night where a bunch of amateur comics go and tell jokes. It’s pretty supportive crowd. Everyone bombs, so it’s almost rare to make a room laugh there. Also, because I know most of the comedians from other open mics, they recognize me as a faithful fan.
The jokes I wrote were terrible. They might have potential if I work on them. I learned that way too late. Oh well. I was up the night before trying to write jokes about my parents and chess. Don’t judge me.
I told no one I was doing this except one guy at work. He was supportive and curious, but too busy focused on other things to really care. My other buddy texts me if I’m going to open mic night tonight, I say yes (it’s usually our Tuesday schedule to watch this).
I show up first with my little notebook and try and play it cool like a cucumber. The comics recognize me, again. My buddy shows up later with his brother. His brother has never come to open mic night, and now it was his first time to watch me. Fuck. He sits next to me and I reveal nothing. I act like I’m not having a mini panic attack.
It was towards the end of the hour. My time was now or never. I barely paid attention to any of the other comedians. I tell my buddy, “You know, I think I’m going to go up there and give it a shot.” He says, “Do it, man.” My buddy didn’t know I was working on material.
I walk towards the host of the night, Johnny, and ask if I can go up there. He says sure. Johnny doesn’t give a fuck.
My performance itself wasn’t memorable. I told terrible jokes, but I got it out of my system. I have no stage presence, let alone a persona. Yet, I found it a pretty exciting experience and don’t regret doing it. Who knows, maybe my shitty jokes can be worked on and I’ll add to it. After I let this sink, I’ll try my luck one more time… Maybe.
Young Man Daily 