I’m here, I’m not late, I should go for a wee.
Ok, I’m back- find the MC. Am I talking to much? I’m definitely smiling too much. Line up? YES there’s another woman. Now that I’m not having to represent ALL women comedians on my own tonight, I can relax, think about set. I’m on in the second half, OK, I’d better just pop for a wee.
Right, so- check out the audience. No women over 30 obvs. There goes all my birth stuff and aging fanny stuff. Young single blokes mainly – so basically no observational material tonight. I’ll not win over this audience of hipsters with the ‘pissing myself on a trampoline’ bit, they won’t be wiping the tears away crying, ‘That’s sooo TRUE’. Also hard to tell shagging jokes when you’re basically their mum. Just about to start, better go for one last wee.
This is a good night, enjoying the acts so far- this bloke doesn’t seem to be doing so well, poor guy he’s… wait, was that a twisted rape joke? Was he being ironic? Am I a bitch if I don’t laugh? No, it’s ok, no one else is laughing- hang on, should I feel sorry for him? No, fuck him, he told a really nasty joke, stop being nice- be angry. Wow this guy really hates women, this just got weird, he’ll probably switch to paedophile jokes in a… there we go. God this is awkward, please finish and leave so we can get this over with. I can’t believe he’s actually running over. So glad I’m not going on next, he’s killed the room – Oooh get me ‘killed the room’ like a proper comedian.
Interval. One good thing about comedy nights- only time there’s never a queue for the ladies.
Chatting with the other acts, turns out the woman-hater is a bit of a legend on the circuit, apparently he’s an adorable eccentric. The other acts are great, a few I’ve gigged with before, others I know from Facebook posts. One obnoxious 20-year-old whose set I thought was a bit boring, reckons he’s a total pro and has decided we all need to benefit from his wisdom, which is fun. Apparently I should focus on talking about ‘what I know’. I point out that’s a bit hard when you have so little shared experience with the audience, he just shrugs and says ‘Hey, funny is funny’. I imagine headbutting him in the face and watching him try to reassemble his shattered nose with blood drenched fingers while I laugh cos, you know, funny is funny. I smile and say, ‘Yeah, good point, thanks’.
Right second half, quick wee before I go on.
The other female act is on, what is she wearing, is that a tank top? It makes her boobs look huge. Am I judging another woman based on what she looks like? Oh great, I’m as bad as the rape joke guy now. Focus on her jokes, focus on her jokes, stop looking at her breasts, is she wearing a bra? Stop it, look at her face. That was a good line, she’s funny. Of course, THAT’s her most prominent feature, it doesn’t matter what she’s wearing. I’m not a horrendously judgemental rubbish feminist, I know that she is defined by what she says not what she looks like and above all SHE IS FUNNY. That is what I shall take away from her performance. That is what I’ll remember when I look back at this gig. When I’m at home in bed tonight I’ll think, ‘Hey, tits-girl was hilarious’.
The bloke with the glasses is doing a bit about how hard it is being single when you’re a geek. His girlfriend and I are loving it. Now it’s me. I’m up. God I love this.