A conversation between me and Front Row Guy
Me: Hey!
Front Row Guy: What?
Me: Any reason why you’re not laughing?
FRG: Uh, not really.
Me: Right.
FRG: Have you got a problem?
Me: No.
Me:
Me: Yes.
FRG: What?
Me: I just feel like you’re not enjoying the show.
FRG: Maybe I am.
Me: Well how would I know?
FRG: I don’t know, you could trust that I am.
Me: No.
FRG: Well, I suppose you’ll have to ask.
Me: Maybe I don’t want to know the answer.
FRG: Well let’s just drop it shall we, this is starting to get awkward.
Me: Okay, fine.
Me:
FRG: What?
Me: Well are you enjoying the show?
FRG: Not particularly.
Me: WHY??????
FRG: Oh I don’t know, it’s not what I expected.
Me: Well, what did you expect?
FRG: I don’t know.
Me: Then how can it not be what you expected if you didn’t expect anything?
FRG: C’mon sweaty man, it’s a figure of speech, don’t think you’re going to pin me on a triviality of pedantics.
Me: Why don’t you love me?
FRG: I beg your pardon?
Me: Nothing.
FRG: Did you just?
Me: No, nothing, I didn’t say anything, forget it.
FRG: Did you just ask…
Me: No, THE SHOW, I said the show, why don’t you love the show?
FRG: I told you.
Me: Well that doesn’t cut it, I need more details.
FRG: Look mate, I came to the comedy for a laugh, and I don’t find you that funny. Simple as that.
Me: But other people are laughing.
FRG: I can hear that.
Me: Well. Can’t you see…
FRG: See what?
Me: It’s you who’s…
FRG: What?
Me: Nothing.
FRG: Say it…
Me: wrong…
FRG: WRONG? What? Am I breaking some laws here?? I don’t see a no laugh sign anywhere. A frowny face with a red stroke through it. What exactly is your problem nerves magee, I mean, mistake me if I’m wrong, but it seems like you’re choosing to ignore your moderately successful show and reasonably satisfied paying audience to focus on some white shirted, middle aged, crossed arms character in the front row.
Me: Maybe.
FRG: What, and you’re making me sound like the guy with the problem. Now, why would you worry about some striped lump like me, sitting here minding my own, probably money orientated business. I mean, I’m not heckling you for god’s sake, though I’m sitting on a few beauties. Hey, Austin Power called…
Me: Heard it. Oh look, never mind, I just, I don’t know, I just get quite angry when people don’t laugh at me.
FRG: Angry, why would that make you angry?
Me: Because I’ve put a lot of work into this.
FRG: So?
Me: Well, I think this is a good show.
FRG: And…
Me: Well, why would you pay money to come to the show and not laugh?
FRG: Look diet face, I can assure you this wasn’t my game plan leading up to tonight. What, do you think I make a habit of paying twenty bucks to turn up to things and take great delight while I sit there with my arms crossed thinking it’s a bit shit.
Me: Heh, I guess not.
FRG: Look, the girlfriend thought this would be a good idea, and to be honest with you, Pauly Shore was sold out, so we thought we’d give a local bloke a chance.
Me: Right. I just think…oh, never mind.
FRG: No, c’mon, out with it.
Me: I just think…well, I don’t know quite how to put this. Um, it’s a really hard thing to articulate, you know, sometimes the English language doesn’t do justice to the ethereal, infinite swirl of emotion and sentiment that courses through our…
FRG: C’mon Professor Farnsworth when he was younger, what are you on about.
Me: I just think…
FRG: Yes.
Me: I just think that, like, you know, I’m a once in a lifetime genius and you’re a mainstream shitface.
FRG:
Me: God. Sorry.
FRG: Nah you’re right mate I was just checking where my beer was.
Me: Now that I’ve said that out loud I realise how ridiculous it sounds.
FRG: Of course it does. We all get like that though. Take me in the office making a presentation yesterday, I thought my pitch for advertising on the wings of airplanes was a blast of brilliance, but when my fellow board members looked a little concerned, I started to see red.
Me: Right. That’s not a bad idea, a lot of people see the wings when they’re sitting on a plane.
FRG: Damn right. Anyway, look, it’s just the same situation really. You’re at work, pitching your ideas to us about what’s funny, and we have the power to go yay or nay, whether you like it or not.
Me: Yes, true.
FRG: Look, you’ve got two choices haven’t you. Either ignore me and get on with the job, or make the whole thing about the one person who isn’t laughing and implode on yourself, ruining it for everyone.
Me: There is a third option.
FRG: Yeah what’s that?
Me: More swearing.
FRG: Look, personally, I’d prefer it, and I know my girlfriend would too.
Me: Fine. Just fine. No more cock-ups.
FRG: Ha. Cock-ups. That’s gold.
THE END.
That’s the second-best thing I’ve ever read about comedy. Below is the best thing I’ve ever read about comedy, and every comedian should staple it to their wall and read it three times a day:
‘I just got back from another parade of people in their 30s mumbling into a microphone about what a bad job the audience was doing. “Okay, I guess that one didn’t go over so well.” What one? Did you just tell a joke? It sounded like a rhetorical question about your hair. It sounded like you said there were “no niggers in Cloverfield.” I thought it was my job to wait for the punchline, then laugh. Now I’m finding out I should just laugh because you decided you’re a comic? How can your thumb fit in your mouth with your head so far up your ass? You know why most of the audience isn’t laughing? The “audience” is the other 15 comics. They’re going through their notepads or they’re talking shit about you. Sadly, they’re being funnier mumbling into their drinks about how unfunny you are than they’re going to be when it’s their turn on stage. Everyone in this room is here to get the attention they think they were born entitled to receive. Weird how that doesn’t make a real hot night of entertainment for me, the one guy that got tricked into coming here. I leaned over to my friend during someone’s act tonight and said, “I’ve never wanted to slash someone else’s wrists before.” That’s how standup makes me feel. There’s as much talent there as anywhere else, but the medium makes babies out of grownups. There had to be a first comedian, a guy that was the first person to pick up a microphone and try using it to make people laugh. That guy didn’t have the luxury of a thing called “standup” to pretend he was pursuing. That guy just had to do it, in spite of a world saying, “why are you doing that?” His answer had to be “because I love doing it,” not “because this is what people do” or “because I have five years to kill before I need to get a job or marry someone.” Fuck you.’