Where peace is not a pie ...Rick's Cafe Americain

Read More...

I’m afraid of performing for two reasons. First, my political comedy is (surprise, surprise) left-leaning. That is fine in blue-state NYC, because the easiest (and “hackest") laugh is to just say “Doesn’t President Bush suck?” without any real joke to follow it up? Example:

Doesn’t Bush suck? [Cheering] Isn’t he just so stupid? [Much laughter] [Insert random example of Bush getting tongue-tied] [Inexplicably, more laughter] END OF “POLITICAL” SEGMENT

My jokes are more sophisticated than that, but I still don’t know if any anti-Bush material will fly. (Zinester is insistent that I not do any political jokes down here.) Which leads to fear #2. My jokes don’t take an advanced degree to understand, but they aren’t for the feeble-minded either. I’ve heard some pretty negative stuff about the quality of audiences at road gigs, and I’m afraid that some of my stuff - particularly the political stuff - will be over the audience’s collective head. (Zinester is insistent that I not tell some of the smarter jokes in my act.) We’ll see. At any rate, it will be good to get out of the liberal bubble in New York to see what other audiences think of my stuff.

Tonight will either be great fun or a total horror show. My first (sort of) road gig is an open mic at the Coconuts Comedy Club in St. Pete. I have no idea what the comedy will be like, but I expect it to be horrible. Most of the open mics in New York are horrible and those are filled with people who hope to make careers in comedy. At a club in western Florida - not a place where people go to chase their showbiz dreams - I’m afraid that most of the comics are going to be doing the equivalent of comedy karaoke. I’m hoping for original writing, but not really expecting it. Also, the homophobia meter will probably redline by the second performer. There is a headliner tonight, but I can find no web presence for “Uncle Bob” something-or-other, so I have no idea what to expect from him, either.

I am going to try to get on stage as much as possible while I am down here, and I should be able to get up at least a couple more times. Coconuts also has a club in Clearwater, and the booker in St. Pete said that I’ll be able to do a guest spot there in their regular show - right now I am thinking 12/28 is the most likely date. I hope to perform at least three times while I am down here so an earlier show is likely as well. There are a few other places clubs I need to call - Tampa has much more comedy than I expected. Wish me luck - without a useful tape to show to the booker or an agent to call on my behalf, I’m going to need it.

Read Less...

Read More...

I thought that there were portents of a good night. The A.M. game is at an office near the corner of 23d and 7th and starts at 10:30. At 10:03 I was just getting into my car in Brooklyn, with the traffic on Flatbush and the bridge before I hit the often gridlocked Manhattan streets. I was worried enough to call asphnxma so that he would save me a seat at the game. But I found a little known warp drive on the dash of my car and I was in the fifth floor office holding my chips by 10:22.

We got 23 players last night, so we had our first three-table tournament in a while. I ended up at seat 5 at the crappy long table with asphnxma on my left in seat 6, a cute first-time player named Jonna on my right in 4. Frogman, (the nicknameless) Jay and Sporto were in seats 1, 2 and 3 and Tiger in 7. A lot of good players at the table.

Jonna was playing in her first poker tournament, and quite possibly her first poker game. She had the ranking of hands on a cheat sheet that she didn’t bother to hide and tried to bet a small chip (25) on numerous occassions, even though the starting blinds were 25/50 and kept going up. (This anecdote has been revised to reflect asphnxma’s better memory. -ed.) She limped in UTG on the first hand, and then called Nixma’s raise to 200. Her limp and her call were both preceded by Sporto’s instructions. You can fold, call or raise at least the amount of the blind. After the flop came down A-2-5 [with two hearts], another lesson in options came from Sporto, followed by a check from Jonna. Never say that asphnxma takes it easy on the women at the table, as he immediately fired 400 into the pot. This immediately sent Sporto and Frogman jockeying to see who could give her rules instructions, while halfheartedly trying to steer clear of improper advice. I don’t think they succeeded. Sporto clearly won the jockeying contest like so:

Sporto: He’s been betting the whole way, so he is representing an ace. But I can’t tell you what to do with your hand. [Much laughter from the table]

Sporto: Is that OK to say, [asphnxma]? [More laughter]

asphnxma: ~*~ (That, for the record, is a shrug. It may be used in a variety of contexts. (c) 2004.)

Jonna called anyway, so asphnxma shut down on the turn and the river. Jonna checked it down also, so asphnxma avoided any further difficult decisions. I don’t think he regrets the shutdown [- even though running hearts gave asphnxma a flush with his A9♥ -] because Jonna turned over 4♦3♦ for a flopped straight. [Not surprisingly, asphnxma didn’t feel comfortable enough with a 9-high flush to push into a likely caller with a four-flush on the board.]

Everyone was very kind to Jonna and the way she played the hand, but wouldn’t have been as kind to anyone else (particularly a less attractive “anyone else.") Jonna limped and then called a preflop raise with 43s. She flopped a straight, but neither check-raised asphnxma, nor bet the turn or river after calling him on the flop with the nuts. I think that a [A] heart on the river would have given [gave] asphnxma a backdoor flush, and Jonna likely would have called a push on the river as well.  She won [lost] the hand, but didn’t get much value [probably could have won it with more aggressive betting on the flop or turn] AND [she] had to show down a weak starting hand.

Jonna is a newbie, though. I’ve been playing for a while and I still appear unable to learn from the past. I can’t shake myself from playing a super-tight game. It allows me to rally back from a short stack (accounting for my good tournament results) but invariably leaves me shortstacked to begin with. It is a silly way to play and I hope to someday get past it. Last night was not that day. Bad cards and bad flops were killing me, and I was playing too tight to accumulate any chips. Stealing blinds in front of asphnxma is tricky and I couldn’t bring myself to just play a few hands without worrying about getting caught in a bluff.

I dwindled down to 1100 by the start of level 3 and started the level in the BB for 200. Jay pushes his last 500 and the table left it to me to police the short stack. I looked down to see QJo and decided that I had to call. Jay flipped A♦7♦. Flop is J♦-x-x, putting me in the lead. Turn is a brick, but another ♦. And the river is the 7♦, giving Jay the flush. Almost. Just as we started pushing the chips to Jay, Sporto noticed that Jay not only made a flush, he made the rare “Pair of 7♦”. Whoops. I dealt the hand, but Frogman dealt the flop from the second deck. Run it again, this time out of my deck. This time I paired my Q on the flop and it held up. Sorry, Jay.

We move to two tables and then I get moved again when we get down to 12 players. It is saying a lot about my game that I have no information to add about that extended period. OK, it wasn’t all that extended, because we were still on level 3 when I got moved. If you are paying attention, you also know that things don’t go very well from here. There are six players at the table, but only Nixma and NewGuy (to me) have any chips to speak of. And they have a LOT of chips. I am sitting well below average with ~1650, and I have to kick 200 in for my big blind two hands after I sit down. Two players, including NewGuy, limp in and - seeing a perfect opportunity to steal a quick 500 - I push. I didn’t know anything about the NewGuy except that he had a huge pile of chips, so I just assumed that he wasn’t the type of player that would limp with the sort of hand that would let him call a raise of two times the pot. Turns out I was wrong. He was a calling station that kept hitting cards. He thinks about it for a while and calls ... with K9o. I know that he was ahead, but can we agree that this was an AWFUL call? He had only committed 200 of his (roughly) 8,000,000 chips. Whatever. No help for me and I’m out in 12th.

Ring:

The biggest problem with my tournament continued to be my biggest flaw in the baby NL ring in the Loser’s Lounge: I was a pussy when I had small aces. I know that playing small aces is considered -EV, but when played selectively, they can be very strong. The ring was only five handed, so playing small aces was almost demanded. Still, I wasn’t playing them and the blinds were coming so quickly I felt like I should just exchange all of my chips for .25 whites.

I loosened up a little, though, and played Q♣9♣ in the cutoff. Four people saw the limped pot. The flop is Q-J♣-T and the action checks to me. I made a pot-sized bet (top pair, open-ended straight and backdoor flush draws) and ($2) Corey check-calls. The turn is a 9, but it probably gives Corey the straight he was drawing to. He bets only $2 into a $6 pot, so I feel like I have to call with my 2 pair. I have Q and 9 outs to a full house, K outs to a probable chopped pot, and, if he doesn’t have the straight, outs with the 8 as well. The river is a vexing card: another T. But he only bets another $2, so - even though it smells like a value bet - I feel like I have to call again. He flips over 88. He hit his gutshot on the turn. Damnit, a pot sized bet is supposed to knock out an underpair with a gutshot draw! A push on the turn may have gotten him to fold, but probably would have just cost me my stack. At least I was able to show Charlie and Frogman that I wasn’t bluffing the flop.

Last hand of the night. Over my objections, we play one more hand because I don’t want to pay another blind. 7♥6♥and I check my option in a family pot. An A-8-3 gets no action. The turn is a 4. We check to Charlie in the cutoff, who bets $2. Obviously I shouldn’t call here. I’ve got a gutshot draw and two cards that would be third pair if they connected. Because it is the last hand, though, I announce (as idiots often will) It’s just a slice of pizza, right?, let the table know that it is a huge mistake, and then call with a gutshot. To protect myself, I made sure to warn Frogman that if he raised behind me I would punch him in the face. For the record, threats of violence from me are as credible as assurances of reflective decision making from the White House. Still, Froggy simply calls after hinting that he might push. The river is a T, and does NOT give me the gutshot I so badly wanted. The table checks back to a now thoroughly vexed Charlie who checks himself and shows 54s. Frogman has Q3 and Charlie scoops the last pot of the night. Man, if that gutshot hit, it probably would have doubled me up, since it would have given Charlie two pair. C’est la vie. I finished down $12.25

The table broke at an uncharacteristically early 1:30. On the traffic-free early morning streets, I made it back home in the same 20 minutes it took me to get into the city. Stopping for red lights slowed me down.

Read Less...

Read More...

12/1 A.M. Tourney

This was a new kind of tournament for me. I decided to loosen up a little because the starting hands for most of the players are all over the place. I know that the general prescription for a loose table is to play tight, but when the table is more unpredictable than strictly loose, I feel that a slight loosening will allow me to play more aggressively postflop. All of the wierd starting hands generate a lot more scare cards. I ended up playing a lot of Ace-rag and it worked.

It worked first - and to greatest advantage on Level 2. With the blinds at 50/100 and only one fishy limper, I raised my A♣8♣ to 3x BB. JCatz, on my left where I like him, called from SB, and the limper called as well. The flop was A-8-x. JCatz bets 300. I know JCatz pretty well. He plays ATC a lot of the time and will call most preflop raises with any ace. I put him on either a high ace or two pair with 8x, so I pushed. JCatz calls instantly with AJo. No help for either of us on the turn or river, and since I had JCatz outchipped, he was done. He seemed pissed off that I had A8, but I’m having trouble seeing a mistake in a button raise with A8s in a pot with only one limper. He probably thought I had KK or QQ, but I had him beat with AK or AQ also (not to mention 88 or xx), so I’m having trouble generating any sympathy.

My biggest mistake was also on Level 2. Epstein raised from MP to 300. I called from the CO with T♠T in the CO. One other caller (EP) saw the K♠-x♠-x flop with us. The action was checked to me and I bet 500. Epstein called. The turn was another spade. Fuck. I figured Epstein was on a flush draw, so that wasn’t what I wanted to see. Surprisingly, Epstein checked. I smelled a trap so I checked also. The river was a 4th spade, giving me a flush with my T. Epstein bet 300 into a pot of 2050, so I didn’t feel like I could lay down even though I was almost certainly beat. Which I was. Epstein turned over A♠6♠ and had the nuts on the turn. Dodged a bullet there by holding back on the turn bet.

After that hand I slowly built back my stack by aggressively betting with position and doing a lot of preflop reraising. I don’t remember any of the hands, but I wasn’t showing down much anyway. My tight pre-tourney reputation and the good starting hands I was showing down were getting me a lot of respect. I didn’t build a monster stack, but I did more than tread water also.

When the tournament collapsed to one table I was 6th out of the remaining nine players. Zinester was still around and she ended up sitting on my immediate right. Just as my aggressive betting slowly built my stack back up before the final table, strong betting at the final table got me close to the chip lead. The blinds were up to 400/800 and all the blind-stealing was paying handsomely.

I also got to watch Zinester play her shortstacked ass off. She lasted to fifth place before a push with JTs got called by the chip leader with Ace-rag and the board didn’t help her. She was betting aggressively and getting people to lay down their hands. In fact, the only hand that she had to show down at final table was her all-in at the end. It was fun to watch and I was sorry to see her go.

It didn’t take long after that to get heads-up because KG, the chip leader, knocked out Jed and Epstein almost immediately after busting Zinester. So when we went heads-up I was at a huge chip disadvantage. Not bad, considering that KG had come back by tripling up from the shortstack to take the chip lead to begin with. I offered a chop immediately, but KG declined. I busted out when I pushed K9 after KG trapped me by limping with AJ.

I think I played a solid tournament and can’t really think of any mistakes other than pushing K9 at the end. Good for me.

12/5 Baby NL at A.M. II

The night started slowly for me. I was limp folding a lot and it was really hurting my stack. I was down from my initial buy-in of $20 when I got a call from my cousin. He jokingly assumed that I was losing money and that got my dander up. I went back to the table determined to make money so I started betting more. I got JCatz to (allegedly) lay down AK three times when he didn’t hit on the flop. My guess is that he had AK once, but he can say whatever he wants about his folded hands as long as he keeps folding.

Except for this hand: The table limped to me with 74 in the BB and I caught an almost perfect flop: 7-6-5, rainbow. Top pair and and an open-ended straight draw. I bet out and JCatz pushed. JCatz doesn’t limp pairs very often and has a habit of forgetting when the big blind is betting into a raggedy flop, so I called. He had 8-6: middle pair and a gutshot. The river was an 8, improving him to two pair, but giving me the straight.

For the record, JCatz isn’t the only person I play against. A few hands later I limped AJ UTG and two more limpers followed, including asphnxma in the SB. A flop of J-9-6 gave me TPTK. Bet $1. Nixma, in the SB, calls bullshit and check-raises me to $3. I shrug off his callous accusation and bump him back to $8. He is shocked and starts questioning me. Sixes? Or Kings? You don’t have jack-nine. Sixes ... or Kings? I go into poker-face shutdown mode, but I can’t help but start laughing the fourth time Nixma repeats Sixes ... or Kings. Nixma shows AJ as he folds it, and out of respect for his laydown of TPTK, I show him my AJ too.

I was up to almost $40 at that point, but I slowly pissed my way back to the mid-twenties by seeing (and missing) too many flops. I raised with KQs to $1.50 (the big blind is .50) and JCatz called. JCatz always calls preflop since his game is modeled after Gus Hansen’s post-flop aggression. The flop came A-K-x. JCatz checked (I don’t remember him ever checking an Ace) and I bet $3. JCatz calls. He’s got a K or QJ. The turn is a 9. JCatz checks and I bet $10. JCatz calls again. Now he’s calling because he thinks I’m full of shit, not because of anything he is holding. The river is a T and JCatz pushes in for my last $3.75. Shit. Maybe he had an ace all along and I’ve been the sucker. I call and he shows ... KTo. Fucking river. JCatz takes my stack on what was probably his most poorly played hand of the night. He shouldn’t have called my preflop raise, my flop bet OR my turn bet. And then he hit his river. Oh well, that’s po (Don’t say it. Just don’t say it. -ed.)

Nothing good happened after that hand, though I didn’t tilt off my rebuy. Ended up losing only another $3.50. Now I’m off to cross swords with these guys again. Wish me luck.

Read Less...

Read More...

My spot at the New York Comedy Club was the result of my past success getting people to come to bringer shows. My reward was that I didn’t need to bring anyone last night, so I didn’t beg people to come and see me. Before I did my set, I spoke with Buddy, the producer of the audition night and last night’s show. The sad short version of our conversation is that the road bookers weren’t interested. The longer, not-nearly-as-sad version includes their actual notes on my performance:

Booker 1: funny ... clever ... potential ... if you haven’t seen Spider-Man, you’re lost in his act
Booker 2: good presence ... funny ... potential ... introductions are too long

Modest, but as far as I’m concerned, fucking awesome. I’ve been doing this for, generously, six months. Really only five, since I didn’t perform at all in between the Funny Jew/Laywer contests in early June and the Funny Jew finals in July. And, frankly, I think the guy is wrong about Spider-Man. The super hero is a guy with spider-like powers and a secret identity. Are the concepts so abstract that you need the movie to take you through them? As for the other guy, my introductions ARE too long. He didn’t tell me anything that Zinester and Brother of Ugarte don’t already tell me after almost every set. The key words up there are “potential” and “funny”.

The comments on the other comics made me feel even better: not funny ... no potential ... absolutely no potential ... TERRIBLE ... (a comment that so clearly identified a specific comic that I can’t repeat it here) ... NO potential. They were tough critics. And they liked my stuff, even though they don’t think I’m ready. Pretty cool.

The other reviews came from the audience (of around 16 people). They were not as positive. The set started poorly when I was introduced, more or less, as a nobody. I’m sure Kurt didn’t mean it to come out that way, but the standard intro for new comics performing in the regular show sounds like This next guy is as awkward as a newborn foal. We are trying to nurture him, but admit that he might suck. Please stay for the next comic even if he totally eats it. Not really confidence-inspiring. Then, to show what a nobody I am, he called me to the stage as “Christopher Star” and I had to correct him*. It didn’t pick up much from there. I blew the intro to my joke about my (former) job and had to wing my A.M. New York joke because I forgot the paper at home (the theatricality of using the prop helps the joke). I also mucked around with some other joke formulations, making them worse and tried a new joke that I didn’t take the time to write out completely. I even underperformed the Spider-Man close. The result was a tepid audience response.

That said, it wasn’t horrible. At least a few people laughed at every joke, everyone laughed at the cheap jokes and one guy was laughing at all of the smart stuff. I have the perspective to know that the poor response was mostly my fault, but in retrospect maybe a riff on last week’s Rumsfeld press conference wasn’t the best idea when it became clear that 99% of the audience don’t know who Donald Rumsfeld is. Or that we are at war. (Don’t ever blame the audience. -ed. I’m not blaming the audience. Telling the joke was my fault and I admit that I didn’t tell it particularly well. Does that mean I can’t judge the audience?). Looking at the positive, the audience seemed to like me personally, even though I was having a bad set. They were waiting for a joke to be told right so they could laugh and when I managed to not blow the Spider-Man jokes, they laughed hard.

Lessons learned: Keep on plugging away. Tighten up the intros. Write the jokes completely before you get on stage. Remember to bring your one and only prop. And make sure the emcee knows your name.

* Brother of Ugarte can be heard on tape audibly laughing at the screw-up. He will pay dearly for reacting with laughter instead of outrage.

Read Less...

Read More...

Wednesday, December 1. No comedy. Only poker. A recap should be posted soon, but will probably be delayed until after this week’s game at The Churchwarden’s and a possible appearance at A.M.

Thursday, December 2. Michael Martin, one of the regulars the Above Malibu poker tournament, clued me in to a Thursday night show at R Bar in Williamsburg, where he and his boyfriend Carter tend bar. I wasn’t sure if it was a booked show or an open mic, but he told me that he could get the host, Brian Finkelstein, to put me on. This was exceedingly kind, as he had never heard me do stand-up; he was risking his reputation on the poker table chatter of an almost-stranger.  I thought the show started at 10, but I arrived at 9:45 to find the show had already begun. I recognized a lot of comics in the room: Liam McEneany, Ritch Duncan, Victor Vornado - all quality comics with substantially more experience than me. Brian told me that he may or may not be able to put me on; there wasn’t much of a crowd and there were a lot of comics scheduled. Strangely, that didn’t stop me from telling Brother of Ugarte to come straight from a late night at work to meet me at the bar. He agreed to come. As soon as I hung up, I hoped that the rest of the comics would be good enough to justify his trip in case I didn’t get to perform. They were. It was a uniformly good group of comics and, as the last scheduled comic was performing, I got the good news that my patience would be rewarded.

I didn’t know how long I was going to get, so I just decided to tell jokes until the crowd got hostile. I opened with a bit about my current working conditions and segued into a riff on something in that day’s paper. The work joke was a refined version of a joke that died when I adlibbed it at an open mic - a little bit of thought made it much better. The riff on the news was great and it is a staple of my set now. I did some election-related material that has better legs than I expected. It turns out that proper packaging can keep material fresh. This message brought to you by Ziploc. My Spider-Man stuff remains strong for the same reason. Acting on a suggestion from asphnxma, I don’t make any reference to the Spider-Man movies, and instead tie the joke to the character. The joke works better (and is tighter) as a result. The Spider-Man joke went over well also. In fact, the whole set killed. I did far better than I expected to, considering the size of the crowd and the proportion of comics to civilians.

Particularly gratifying: Ritch and Brian congratulating me on the set after the show. Mark Sam Rosenthal taking my info so he could book me for his monthly show at Apocalypse Lounge (probably in February). Carter, hanging at the end of the bar with BOU, audibly laughing a lot on my tape of the show. Hanging out with Carter, Michael and BOU after the show, drinking Guinness and Manhattans made with Carter’s own hand-made infused bourbons. A very good night.

Friday, December 3 Also a night off. I hosted a get-together for the contributors to the latest issue of Stay Free! A reader screened part of his amazing collection of pre-MTV music films for the contributor party. I mention this because Stay Free! is having a fundraiser at Southpaw in January with these film clips as the centerpiece. I can’t recommend enough that you come. The videos are amazing. Supporting independent media is a worthwhile cause. The woman I love runs the damn magazine. I’ll give you more reasons if you want them.

Saturday, December 4 On my way out the door at Sven Wechsler to be the second comic. Her play ended earlier than I thought it would, so by the time I got there with Zinester and BOU the play was long over and the burlesque was about to begin, so we were just slotted into the burlesque show. Sven was the first to go. He died a slow, lingering death on stage. (Don’t take my word for it, read his version of events.) I performed a few slots later. The crowd warmed to me a little more than they did to him, but it was still a very tough room. Sven and I commisserated for a little while after I got off stage and then he split. Zinester, BOU and I split shortly thereafter. No reason to hang around the crash site.

Wednesday, December 8. I begged people to come to this show at New York Comedy Club. I needed five people to get the stage time, and I wasn’t sure that I was going to make the quota. Fortunately I have good friends. In the final accounting, 8 people saw me audition in front of a couple of guys who book comics for clubs in Upstate New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania. I thought I had a very solid set. I’ll find out what they thought when I go back to the club tonight for a guest spot in a non-bringer show. Fingers crossed.

Thursday, December 9. The debut of Dubious Prospect, my new open mic at Ripple was something less than a smashing success. Only two comics - Rachael Parenta and Rob Apuzzo - showed up. I waited for more comics to show, and by the time I decided to just start the show, the captive audience escaped. Well, except for two firemen who wouldn’t shut up during my set. Or Rachael’s set. Or Rob’s set. Rob was the only one of us who handled it properly. He also had the good fortune to have some more people come into the bar, so he had some audience to play to. I hope that it goes better for all of us next week.

That’s about it, except to mention that Blaine Perry came through and I am going to be performing at Jack Dempsey’s on January 7. Don’t worry, I’ll remind you. See you tonight, I hope.

Read Less...

Read More...

Yeah, Sam, you heard me. Whatcha gonna do?

Read Less...

Read More...

The open mic scene in New York is a strange and beautiful thing. There are so many comics that on every night of the week, there is a comedy open mic going on every night of the week. The upside is a lot of places to play. The downside is that getting good stage time is still a crapshoot because so many other people show up at the mics.

On Monday I went straight from work to Chinatown to do a six minute set at Yello on Mulberry Street. I got there early, and signed up eighth. Eighth isn’t very good; audiences usually start flagging after six comics, and a mic like Yello (which starts at ~7PM) has very little audience to speak of anyway. I didn’t go eighth, though. I forgot that the host of the room gives priority to people that email him in advance to let him know that they are coming. So I went 14th. I felt like a dog at an animal shelter. Every time the emcee stood up to introduce the next act I thought “Pick me! Pick me! You’ll love me if you will just pick me!!!” By the time comic number 11 hit the stage all I could think was “Fuck it. I’ve been in the pound too long. Just kill me, OK?” The night was going to be really long.

The emcee, after doing a full set up front, kept doing almost two minutes between the comics. Getting longer.

There was also a “headliner.” A guy who has done Conan, among other glamour credits. He did 15 fucking minutes. Ugh. I don’t want to see Chris Rock show up and do 15 minutes when I’m at an open mic and I certainly didn’t want to see impressions of - seriously - Laurel & Hardy, John Candy and Jackie Gleason. And the night just got longer.

I followed a woman that was more performance artist than stand-up comic (her act involved a lot of shreiking and overpronunciation of her own name “Squeeeeer!") and - in a serious open mic felony - she went over by a full two minutes. By the time she was done I was ready to strangle her with my bare hands, even if the entire killing was taken out of my stage time. Longer still.

I finally got up and just died. The crowd had dwindled to the four comatose comics that still had to perform plus the emcee and the booker. I got some laughs from two people who hand’t seen me before, but it was a wasted experience. I didn’t feel like jinxing new material, so I didn’t do any of the stuff I wanted to test and half-assing the old stuff isn’t worth the amount of time I spent waiting. The night perked up a little when the woman who followed me decided to perform her set shirtless (but not braless) so the stragglers would pay attention. I stuck around.

By the time I left Yello it was 9PM. Bowery Poetry Club has an open mic that starts at 10, so I hoofed it across town. (Yes, you read that right. I walked. Seriously.) I got there in plenty of time, went around the corner to grab a burger at Great Jones Cafe and was still one of the first people to toss my name into the hat. It was pulled out roughly 40th! If I waited, I would get to do a four minute set at 2:15 in the morning. Maybe. It was possible that I wouldn’t get on at all before the show closed at 2:30. I stuck around long enough to see Rick Shapiro do an uncomfortable improv bit that involved using the word “nigger” 100 times in seven minutes. It was horrid. It was like watching that stupid “Dead Nigger Storage” scene in Pulp Fiction, which I am sure QT wrote strictly to say “nigger” in Samuel Jackson’s face without getting the shit pounded out of him. It was a thrill to then to see Victor Vornado get up and slam them for the pseudo-intellectual-oh-so-meta-ironic-bullshit that sketches like that spring from. I waited to see Jessy Delfino do a few profane songs because I had heard good things (which were true) and then I left. At 11:30.

To recap: I watched over three hours of comedy and half-assed a six minute set. Not a good night.

Tuesday I went back to Alligator Lounge in Williamsburg. The Alligator is a great room because the bar is full on Tuesdays and they just announce the free comedy show in the back room, which usually draws six to ten people. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but it really makes a huge difference. Again I ended up at the bottom of the list. Frustratingly, this was largely becuase early-arriving comics signed up their friends, so I had to follow people who came later than I did. Still, the beginning of the show ended up being a bad place to be. We had an audience of three - and none of them were willing to laugh. Fortunately, the comic two ahead of me was so painful, they left… and were replaced by three guys that laughed at ANYTHING. So, despite the wait, I actually had a pretty good set. Nice to have a night that isn’t a total loss.

It is now after 4AM and I have to get some sleep. Plus, this is really way too long already. I’ll post the rest of my week tomorrow. I know that you can’t wait.

Read Less...

Read More...

Yes, I know all about Ricky Ray Rector. Spare me the “Democrats do it also” line and just look at the Supreme Court voting on the issue. Thanks.

Read Less...