Yesterday was my first semi-real foray into standup comedy. I stood up in front of the class — about a dozen people — and shot off some material I’ve been working on. I had to consult my notes a few times, which is fine; I hadn’t really practiced the stuff all at once beforehand. I had almost forgotten that I got into acting and public speaking sorts of things because it scares the bejeesus out of me. The old ‘facing your fears’ sort of thing, you see. I was scared of heights, so I got into roller-coasters and did some skydiving. I get nervous talking to several people at once, so I signed up to act in plays and give presentations at meetings for work. And now, to do standup comedy. Frankly, I’m not so sure I picked the right strategy for battling these phobias. Hiding under the covers was working much better, now that I think about it.
But my little monologue went pretty well, I think. I got a few laughs. Really, how could I not? My set had ‘lesbian porno’, and ‘handjobs’, and ‘Asshats Anonymous’. Who could resist a chuckle among that sort of company?
(Just to be clear, folks, there was no lesbian porn or handjobbing going on during my quasi-performance. I just mentioned those things. Really, it’s not that kind of class. Of course, if you happen to know of a class like that, please — let me know. I’ve still got Wednesdays free, and I think I can spare the time for something so obviously… um, ‘educational’. I’m all about the edumacation.)
Anyway, it was fun. I’ve still got a lot of work to do, and some gaps to fill, but I think it’s going to be just fine. You know, unless I seize up on stage and forget my stuff and hyperventilate at everyone in the crowd. Which isn’t outside the realm of possibility, you know. I haven’t done shit like this for a while, so that irrational fear of looking stupid in front of a gaggle of strangers has had time to rebound.
Hey, maybe I can nip that in the bud, though. You know, do something so stupid and embarrassing before the show that I’ll be confident in my ability to deliver my lines. Like I could streak through a mall, or something. Or sing ‘I’m a Little Teapot‘ in falsetto down in the Financial District. Or just start groping people on the subway.
(Yeah, I’m not sure that last one really fits; I’ve just been trying to think of an excuse to try it out. Just ignore me.)
Anyway, I’ll let you know how things go.
(With the comedy, not the groping. I’ll probably have to keep mum about that as part of whatever plea bargain I end up getting.)
And hey, maybe you can come watch for yourself. Just don’t bring any eggs or rotting tomatoes, all right? I’m worried enough about getting that big hook around my waist and being pulled offstage, without having produce to think about. If I want to be smeared with nasty vegetables, I’ll climb into our compost heap. All the muss without any fuss, or embarrassing public displays. Maybe I should be working up toward that instead. Hmmm…Permalink | No Comments