Staleface Earns First Stand-Up Dough Amid Sketchiness

Staleface made himself a cool $5.50 at the Out of the Blue art gallery in Central Sq., Cambridge, MA on Thursday. Coaxed by his housemate to go to the $5 entry open mic (later found out to have contest format) instead of local favorite Grandma's Basement near Fenway, he staled his way through a set that had a few red flags (not on his part). The first deterrent came in the form of 5 bones to do open mic. Fuck that. But it had a potential payoff of 10% of the door (50 cent more than the entry it turns out). The wacky host Bob Gatreau also raised a red flag mostly by his zany characterture of himself for an FB profile pic. So I went into the mic knowing the host had jaherkov eminating from his persona. The motherfucker showed up in a salmon tie. Shaped like a river fish. Wow! FUNNY SHIT! He had super campy material about, like, Frankenstein's mother and Dracula's mother, how rock singers sound like farm animals and like shiet. He brings up my housemate and he does a few notches under alright and then brings me up right after according to the random selection process.
So, I go on stage and start with observations and feelings about the room. About a minute into it I saw in the upper right-hand corner of the room Bobby's camcorder taping the whole thing. He mentioned to somebody else (not the all the performers) that he would tape. That meant early in my set I thought "Oh fuck" for the next 5-7 minutes. After my set I approached BGizzle as he finished a cigarette of all things (hacks smoke? Yeah... for the edge) and asked if he recorded for promotional purposes or something. He said he just wanted to have it which means he will later use it for promo if one of the performers at the mic makes it, also to nab my or other's jokes. He would not post the video but would sell it to me for $25. So after I sort of make my presence felt he replies, "I'd give you a copy but I wouldn't want to see it because of the audience reaction. So this guy who sneakily records the show tries to take me down a peg by saying I did not get reaction. What he then said is he wanted to see me in front of a crowd, meaning a big one. So he meant the video could use more audience but he could not help slide in some cowardly passive aggression.
Take the money and run. To quote Ice Cube, "I ain't going back" despite the cool Ukrainian chick that worked the door (Go Ukrain :) and though I made it to the semis, Gafaux makes the semi-finalists pay door. This "open mic" lacks talent and works as camp central, but I did make enough for a sticker pack from Hippy Tree. Perhaps I will post my set from the show later.
Later.

The Good Kind of Warm

On the bubble of mid-level comic Will Noonan looked at me like I would get pissed. He said he snuck or squeezed in the open mic list at Grandma's Basement (1271 Boylston St. Boston, MA) just before my turn to perform. Maybe I would have ribbed him in the quintessential comic style if I needed to hurry off somewhere after my set, but I had time so I chuckled to myself. I chuckled to myself during the beginning part of my set because for the first time in seven years doing comedy, an audience felt warm to me. Literally warm. It had a pleasant warmness to it, opposite from that of a public pool. How did this happen? The comic known as Noonan (or just Will as he would probably say) made his seemingly off-the-cuff set from the night's topic of strip clubs. Apparently more than a few joke slingers dumped on gentleman's clubs for various reasons. Will said he did not appreciate the stigma attached to strip clubs because as the "type of guy" who liked going to strip clubs "to watch a Celtics game and see a butthole" (the dressed-down energy and delivery admittedly made me chuckle and feel levity amid tenseness), he saw strip clubs as a sort of "Cheers"y type place (he can use that if he wants). He knocked the pins in the room down by jesting strip club DJs on their sobering misfortunes and hackneyed jokes. He made the strip club atmosphere come to life with his accurate impression of a particular DJ and his interaction with an unfortunate bachelor. His performance of the situation at the club also elevated the comedic topic of strip clubs and their DJs. I heard gasps for air from the crowd amid laughter. I got slightly jealous. He damn near killed. He had to truncate his set due to time. This all benefited me (minus the truncation) in my performance because I went up, told my first joke and the crowd appeared without the usual thick black leaden sense of "turning-it-over" like a beater car engine to get laughs. I could sense warmth akin to an apple pie that Willy baked for me. I mischievously/playfully dipped my jokes into that pie and in turn they slicked from punchline to the next one's set-up with gooey delight. I do not know if I kept it warm for the next comic, Rich Karski (I must have because when Karski said Hitler, minding his evil or something, could get shit done, he got a burst of laughter) I did, however feel that set went more enjoyably, strongly, and comfortably than pretty much any other at that mic thanks in considerable part (bloggable even) to @willnoonan.