Last night, when the MC asked for an example suggestion (“can I get a room in the house?”), a fellow raised his hand and shouted, “My room!” The MC applauded, “Yes, yes, that would be a correct suggestion to a room in the house…uh, ma’am?” The young woman next to him was waving her hand frantically. When the MC called on her she announced, “My room is called the fuck me room.” There was a startled gasp amongst the crowd and even a few of us lesser experienced improvisers (like myself) backstage. The audience ruffled and then came back, but the group in the corner became raunchier then ever. I’ve endured drunken audiences before but never a drunken, dirty, slightly angry audience. During intermission the bartender reported that they lined up shots of jager and then polished it off with $9 absinthe all around. They called out to us onstage (“sex toy party!” Which we accepted just to humor them, presenting a fairly chaste party). When asked for a suggestion of ’something you try to squeeze into a moment every day,” (a very creative question, I thought), one of the guys yelled, “Beating off!”

All of this aside my team members consisted of two long time female cast members, ladies who I respect endlessly for their ability to command, wrangle, and handle the stage. I presented myself with a (sometimes forced) confidence the entire time, certain that I could hold my own if I just pushed myself. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, despite the occasional suggestion from the back.