I got to my last show for the night. Another cab. Another 15 bucks. This night cost me more than I made, between the cabs and the booze binge that was about to happen. This was one bullshit night. I walked into the club to see my BFF sitting in the audience with eight other people. Doing a show for an audience of nine might be worse than doing a show for kids. The best part of the night was getting bumped. Where was my depression bed when I needed it?
The show was just starting and the MC was getting the shit heckled out of her. There were two guys in the front, and they wouldn’t shut up. It’s the usual stuff. She’s giving it back to them, but with only nine people in the audience, it’s all falling dead. The MC went around and asked everyone their name, and I paid attention. She brought up the first comic. He pretty much struck out. The room was dead. The energy was dead. I needed a drink. But I have this annoying rule about being professional, and I never drink before a show. It’s ridiculous, but it’s what I do. The next comic asked someone in the audience her name, and the woman got pissed that she had to say her name again. Not only was the comic getting heckled by the hecklers, but now some bitch was giving him flack.
Next comic. Same thing. Annoying hecklers. Angry audience. What a night. I felt myself not wanting to go up. I thought about what a shitty day it was, and how much I didn’t want to work at that new sales job. I thought about how low my bank account was, and how much I wanted to move out of my apartment. I thought about the guy. I thought about my life. And then it was my turn to perform, and I was called up to go on stage.But this time, I wasn't myself. I wasn't going to do my set. I wasn’t in the mood for the hecklers. The audience. The night. I went up and said, “I want everyone to just calm the fuck down. It’s too rowdy in here. Calm down.” It was nice to curse again. And then, “I know everyone’s name, so I want everyone to relax.” I looked at each audience member as I said their name, and then to the two hecklers I said, “And your name is Shut the Fuck Up and your name is Fucking Annoying.”
All my anger about my old job, new job, ex-boyfriend, day of depression, shitty apartment - everything came out. I had them from when I knew all their names and renamed the hecklers. I heckled the hecklers. I heckled the lady who was a bitch to the comic who couldn’t remember her name. I heckled my BFF. I heckled myself. Making fun of myself for getting so mad. Everyone laughed. Especially the hecklers. They loved it. It was great. A release. I only performed for nine, but it felt like nine hundred.
I walked off stage and grabbed my BFF. We were laughing about the whole thing when Shut the Fuck Up and Fucking Annoying came over to us. I was a little worried. I’ve never wanted to make anyone feel bad during a show. They were looking at me, and they were unsure if they should approach, so I said, “Hi.” The one guy said, “Thanks so much. We had the best time.” The other guy said, “We really needed that laugh. One of our best friends just died.” People say all sorts of things to you after a comedy show. This was a new one. My day might’ve sucked, but it was nothing compared to what they were going through. I was angry. They were angry. All that anger somehow put on a great show. You never know what kind of pain another person carries or what might lift that pain. It felt good, and it put all of my stuff in perspective. I told them I had needed it too, and thanked them for being good sports. They wished me all the success in the world and left. And then I was lucky enough to leave with my best friend, and we went and got wasted.