I’m prepping for my trip to New York City next week and I just confirmed that I’m being given a spot in a comedy showcase in the East Village!
Like everything else, it pays to network in life. I connected with a local comedian here in South Florida who introduced me to a comic in NYC that’s originally from Florida. He now runs a room in NYC. I reached out to him on Facebook and introduced myself. After some back and forth and the viewing of my latest Improv performance video, he’s giving me a spot!
If you’re in the area and are in the mood to laugh, check me out Tuesday night, August 12th, at Bar None.
Well, it’s official. I’ve earned my first dollar from comedy. Actually, I earned my first dollar plus twenty more. I had my first ever paid gig and walked away with $21 for 12 minutes of my time. That’s $1.75 a minute. That’s $105 an hour. If this was a full-time job, I’d be making $218,400 a year. But, I only got 12 minutes.
So, I guess you could say that the money’s good in comedy, it’s just the hours that suck.
I’m exhausted from last night’s fun, but I need to get up tonight because tomorrow’s the Improv. Gotta bring my ‘A’ game for that. American Rock Bar is the perfect room to work out the kinks and get a good laugh.
I feel calm. Not all the time, mind you, but more and more as I get on stage. I understand that there’s a natural progression and that the more you do something, the more comfortable you feel about it. But, I wasn’t expecting this.
I’ve started to just come up with topics or ideas off the top of my head and run with it. I’ll give it a go on stage with nary an ounce of trepidation. If it works, great. If not, well, I’ll try it a few more times just to make sure.
I’m starting to feel like I want to take more risks. I want to get into crowd work. Add a little bit of uncertainty into the foray. Am I being over confident? Am I playing with fire? Perhaps, but playing with fire is how steel was invented. Not to say that I’m comparing my budding comedy career to steel, but maybe tin.
Next stop, aluminum.
As I sit here waiting for the show to start, saddled with strep throat and a general malaise overall, my thoughts turn to the old saying, “the show must go on.” Fuck that noise, I feel like shit.