I forgot to mention that when I was performing at The Baltimore Comedy Factory, they had come up with a wonderful idea to sell out all six shows.
$15 cover includes All You Can Drink!…and comedians
We became an Alcoholic Magnet, which attracted every thirsty local with an affinity for whiskey. A lot of XXX-L NFL jerseys, large silver medallions, and throat tattoos. I counted four tear drops on one fellow and was amazed at the intricate spider web tattoo on another. It appeared that a prison was having a field trip of some kind, and we were responsible of the entertainment.
I felt like Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, except nerdier and without the respect that Johnny exuded.
Fortunately, the headliner (Will Marfori) and I were able to tame the mob for 83% of the shows. The final show on Saturday at 11pm had the feel of a live Jerry Springer taping.
Immediately when I walked on stage, Dan Tracey, the manager and booker of the club, was tactfully informing a couple to be quiet so others could enjoy the show.
The liquored-up “lady” responded by pushing Dan and screamed, “You’re nothing, but a big fat pussy!!”
Dan continued to stay calm and tried to escort the “lady” out of the club. Mind you, this all transpired in front of the stage. I commented the entire time, trying to distract the crowd, which was impossible to do.
Once Dan placed his hand on the “lady”, her dirt-bag husband ran to her “rescue”. Even though she was the attacker, and Dan was protecting his vital areas.
Sir Whitetrash-a-lot ran forth to defend his maiden, and yelled in a rural twang, “Get your damn hands off my wife!”
Thank The Creator that the bouncer, Alabama, a 350 lb dude with dreadlocks, didn’t call in sick that night. He heard the battle cry from Sir Douchebag, responded by opening his arms like he was going to be crucified and ran into the party of three with full force.
Momentum equals mass times velocity.
Alabama generated a tremendous amount of momentum!
He easily cleaned up the scuffle, and pushed them out the door, which was about 15 yards away stage right.
All of that took place in course of about 2-3 minutes. It was surreal. A mind-bending reality created by uneducated humans who consume too much alcohol.
The greatest part was that I still had to perform for 25 more minutes to these people. They will surely love my poetry, D&D references, and math jokes. Good times!
I love being a comedian. It actually was fun for the first ten minutes, but then I became a fireman. Dousing out verbal fires with venomous lashings, I didn’t know I housed such rage.
I had one moment of lucidity, and was aware that at one point I was screaming, “Shut the fuck up, and listen to me, you fucks!”
Ironically, people still approached me after the show and said they enjoyed it.
I pray to the comedy gods, that I will someday be able to consistently perform in front of theatres of alcohol-free audiences.
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