I did manage to get up enough courage to attend the Comedy Roadkill open mic last week.
The place was mainly comedians and a few girl/boyfriends.
My set did what I sort of expected it to do. It got a few laughs, got a few groans and got a few uninterrupted moments of silence.
I have allowed my tendency toward cowardice to stop me for too long.
The Falcon (nee Hippo) and I moved back to Utah in January of 2012. Since that time, I performed stand-up comedy at Wiseguy’s in Trolley Square once. Only once! I am convinced I was waved off stage before my time was up and the set got few laughs, especially my convoluted joke about Superman, Green Lantern and Batman. (Hint: It ends on a pun that requires both knowledge of an SAT vocabulary word AND of Superman comic lore.)
I did go back to Wiseguy’s, but it had become a bringer open mic. This meant that everyone who brought paying customers was put on the priority list and anyone who did not was put on a back-up list. I walked out of the club with my name on the back-up list and have not been back.
At first I wallowed in righteous indignation. “How dare they ask me to bring paying customers? How dare this business attempt to thrive?”
Once I realized I was just making excuses, I continued to languish in fear and self-doubt.
Now, I have done research into other, more strictly open mic venues around town and am ready to get back out there. I have about a million jokes and an equal number of reasons to never step on stage again. All excuses. None real.
So, I steel my nerves because I crave the inimitable feeling of holding a microphone in my hand and speaking into it, my voice coming from the club speakers. The fear, the agony, the failure and the success. It all begins again now.
Next stop is Comedy Roadkill at The Complex.