Last night we added the boys from LA and I couldn’t compete. I was floored. I thought I could hold my own…finally yelling at the sound board op (whose female) to come down and save me. Backstage, I watched the drunken debauchery in an ice cold green room, (I forgot how much guys like to hump random stuff as a joke) and tried to stay out of the way. Jeff said, “We spared you years of playing the wife, girlfriend, and mother of a million different sketches.” He’s right, but it still would have been fun–although I think the penis jokes would have worn on me after while.

This is also another case where I was confronted with the dilemma of drinking and performing. Many comediennes swear by it. They absolutely must be juiced on alcohol or some other foreign substance in order to feel free enough to let go. I have to admit, one of my more memorable performances was when I accidentally drank a little too much at dinner and then went to perform in a dance/performance/art piece (this was 8 years ago btw, not last week). My inhibitions were largely gone but I felt like I was risking it, (it probably helped that this show was pretty loose and easy going and not totally scripted). What’s the harm? When drinking around performers we usually just start waving our hands around more, talking louder, and occasionally stopping to embrace in an “I love you, man” kind of way. But you take this to the stage and suddenly you’re also drunk off the crowd in addition to your own intoxication. This can be amazing–or terrifying, as you stumble around your script, story, narrative trying to find the beats. At any rate, I accepted the pre-show drink with the rest of the crew and felt fine (although I did start slurping on it pretty loudly during Dave’s monologue). Intermission shows up and suddenly Luke is giving me his top shelf mixed drink and opting for the Rainier Beer in the green room fridge. So, I’m like, well my piece is done, why not drink during the second act? It was fun, but then karma hit me and I had to run off stage and go the bathroom…I slowed down after that.

The audience was loud, huge, hecklers sprinkled throughout, giving the cast a run for their money. This is where I think being a girl saved me a little, and they largely spared me. Together we held the audience in our palm, operating them like puppets, getting them riled up and on our side. The howl of the crowd in unison, the ability to riff because the audience wants more, and the empathy that they could quickly turn on you at any second. I think this is probably what stand-up comedy is like…and I don’t know if I could really compete. Sure, I wasn’t hassled (one girl kept yelling “PENIS!” during Mark’s story) but it only takes one audience member to call you out. Again, this is the side of comedy that I’ve been spared, resigning in the polite world of theatrical houses and long form improv crowds. It’s true this type of audience drinks more, hence the laughs are louder and more rewarding, but man, you have to be READY.