This is a lesson I’ve learned the hard way because I have a freakishly great memory, especially when it comes to interactions with important people (in this context that would be successful comedians and club managers). In comedy you can go months or years before encountering the same people. Assume the encounter wasn’t as big of a deal to them as it was for you.
So if they say, “Nice to meet you.”
Don’t counter with, “Actually we met 2 years ago when I…”
Here are my two reasons…
First, it makes them feel awkward/bad because even though it’s just little ol’ you, they have a conscious and a meaningful moment for you didn’t stick in their memory. They’re likely to exit the conversation early.
The second reason is even more important. If you weren’t funny enough to be remembered, it’s a blessing that you get a fresh start.
I regret that the first few years of my career when I lived in Columbus, were the same years I opened for the biggest names (2000-2005). I thought I was funny, but in retrospect I’m ashamed the only impression I ever left on Dave Attell (and other comedy heroes from that era) was that of a cringy 10-minute set.
I had multiple interactions with Ruthann (Crackers in Indianapolis) and every time I did a guest set or featured it was similar to The Simpsons gag of Mr. Burns not remembering Homer Simpson. The final guest set I did for her (circa 2019?) impressed her so much she offered a week right away. Like an idiot, I reminded her that I’d already featured a week a few years prior. Several email attempts later, nothing ever came about.
You’ll improve exponentially through (at least) your first 15 years of comedy. Don’t remind someone who can help you of the comic you were years before. Let them gain a fresh perspective of you at the level you’re currently at instead of making them feel awkward and reminding them of the less-experienced comic you used to be.
For more advice on making money in stand-up comedy, check out my book, Don’t Wear Shorts on Stage. It’s available in paperback, ebook, and audio.
Recently my friends on the hilarious and inciteful podcast, The Consumers, held a discussion on what a tough room was. They specifically mentioned the Little Rock Looney Bin. I haven’t worked there since 2008, but I do recall advice about not making fun of Arkansas on stage (yet I still learned my lesson the hard way), and can attest that it has always been a tough room.
Nowadays, I make a bulk of my comedy earnings on stages that aren’t in comedy clubs: event halls, bars, and most recently a church. Some of these venues make even the toughest comedy club look easy. This post will explain how you can make these rooms a little less challenging ahead of time with variables you can control, and if you can’t, how you can prepare to still salvage a decent set.
If you have any say in the room setup here are some quick fixes:
Be sure they’re seated very close to whatever serves as your stage and there aren’t dozens of extra chairs near the back.
Have them use a spotlight on you and turn down the house lights. This can make all the difference so mention it during your actual booking agreement.
Discourage any other distractions during your show including silent raffles, a smoke break between comics, televisions showing the game, and eating. (I recently performed a gig where the caterer was running behind so badly they served dinner right before I went on stage. People can’t chew and laugh at the same time.)
Other challenges include a venue with a high ceiling, faulty acoustics, an odd-shaped room where many struggle to see, and a bar in the back with talkative patrons who aren’t there for a show. If you have round tables, you’ll have people who aren’t even facing you. Invite them to turn around in your opening remarks.
Ultimately, a crowd is what makes a room hot or cold, but before I alert you on what to look for, there are a few other factors that can make a room more challenging…
Showtime: In the summer, if it’s still light out, like a concert a comedy can lose a lot of the vibe if the room has windows that leak even a little light. On the contrary, late shows can be even tougher (a 3rd show Saturday starting at midnight was standard at clubs when I started out 25 years ago). Typically, a late show on Friday is the toughest at a club because people are tired from being up early for work, plus they’ve been drinking for hours.
Openers: If you have a host or feature before you and they’re filthy or always interreacting with the crowd, that can make your job more difficult. If you’re a headliner who can choose your openers, consider these factors. Also, if your opener bombs, you may have to dig your way out. Do your best to pick up the pace right away so they realized you’re worth staying to hear. I’ve even resorted to waiting near the door and telling them how the show will improve if they’ll patiently stick around.
With crowds, I believe age is becoming a large factor. Our Tuesday night open mic at the St. Louis Funnybone has been plagued attended by people in their early twenties. For some reason, they don’t laugh much. At any of us. Even touring headliners struggle. We theorized it had something to do with habitually watching short clips on a phone and enjoying something but just not openly expressing it with laughter (the high school students I teach agreed with this theory). Maybe we should install “like” buttons at the table. Whether my theory is right or wrong, young crowds are tough. On the contrary, I once worked a 50th class reunion (everyone was about 68) and they (physically) struggled to laugh all that much. Luckily, the band on after me led the laughter.
Consider extreme age groups and the references you make. Will they get allusions about 80’s music and whatever happened to (insert famous influencer)? Probably not.
Gender can also play a role. If it’s a normal mix, it’s not a factor. If you’re working an all-male room (country club member’s tournament afterparty) you’ll get some “macho” hecklers. If it’s a private event bachelorette party that’s all women, you’ll also experience a different behavior from the crowd (sponsored by Tito’s).
I had the honor of opening for Fortune Feimster in a theater once. After my first joke I realized the crowd was 90% women and had to adjust my setlist on the fly. Consider what you can get away with and what you can’t if you have a crowd of mostly one gender.
Groups vs. Couples: The more groups in the crowd, the rowdier it’s likely to be. People become fearless in front of friends. Couples nights (Valentine’s shows) are overly tame because people tend to be more worried about their date than letting go.
Political affiliation can also make a room tougher, and I’ve experienced extremes from both left and right. Years ago I didn’t do well because a crowd in a “hip” neighborhood in St. Louis got easily offended by some of my bits. I’ve also walked into rural bars with Trump signs in them. I don’t directly mention politics in any of my jokes, but by watching a comedian’s set you can often tell which way they lean. Consider jokes you might have to cut from your setlist.
There are a few other factors I left out, but you can find them on the video below. Feel free to comment anything else I may have overlooked and share what your toughest room was. And if you want to learn more about making money in stand-up comedy, check out my book, Don’t Wear Shorts on Stage available on Amazon.
Authors have a phrase, Killing Your Darlings, in relation to editing. It means going back and removing your favorite scenes, settings, sentences, characters or plot twists. It might even be the thing that inspired the story. These elements seemed perfect when you wrote them on the page because sometimes, “this really happened in real life!” but many times they doesn’t make for a good book.
Comedians need to do the same thing with jokes.
Sometimes a beginner comic gets a big laugh on a joke. The advice is to build a 5-minute set, so that comic continues to use that joke over and over. Jokes can stay in an act for years (“You don’t say, Durham!”). And most of us comics aren’t pumping out specials and starting over with a new hour every few years, so these trusty bits fester into “classics.” Eventually, you have to say goodbye to even your best jokes.
The closer I used for the first 5 years of my career…the one that got the biggest laughs and loudest response in my entire set…was holding me back, and I was too blind to realize it until a peer/mentor finally told me how stupid it was and that it didn’t fit the rest of my act.
Trust that as time goes by you become a better joke writer and your voice becomes stronger. Even if your new bits aren’t polished to perfection, you have to kill your darlings and replace them. Otherwise, your act and your stage presence becomes stale (and comedy can even get boring).
This week I’ve replaced quite a few “darlings” in my setlist and they aren’t all going to do as well as the older stuff. However, my supporters and the club will appreciate the change and growth. My best shows are when I’m not in auto-pilot, and as someone who’s been doing stand-up for 25 years, trust me, I’m often in auto-pilot. Having to think about the bit I’m doing will help the performance.
So how do you know which bits to kill? Ask the other comics who’ve seen you at dozens of open mics. Ask the club manager (if he or she watches regularly). Ask a headliner. If they’re honest, they’ll tell you what to nix for good.
Be sure you’re getting the right kind of laughs instead of cheap, stage-prop laughter. Years later you’ll look back and cringe at what you used to think was your best joke. Seriously though, kill it now.
For more advice on how to make money and advance in the comedy business, check out my book Don’t Wear Shorts on Stage.
Don't Wear Shorts on Stage 