Creating a Comic

There exists a fairly rigid hierarchy among stand-up comedians, which I’ve discussed before. Simply put, stage time for open mics and weekend host/feature spots is largely based on seniority — and since experience and talent tend to be roughly equivalent in stand-up comedy, this is a system that benefits the audience, too.

At my home club of Giggles, the format for open mic shows has been the same for as long as I’ve been going there. Every Thursday and Sunday night goes down roughly as follows:

• First 2-4 comics — Open mic regulars with enough experience to be able to reliably warm up the crowd. 5-7 minute each.
• Next 3-8 comics — Professionals and other highly experienced veterans; this is the heart of the show, and guarantees the audience gets their money’s worth. 7-10 minutes each.
• Next 2-8+ comics — Bringers, or people who brought audience members to guarantee their stage time. Bringing a large number of paying guests (6+) can also get you some extra stage time, up to ten minutes total.
• Final 3-10+ comics — Everyone else who wants to go on stage, with the order determined by seniority, until time runs out. 3-7 minutes each.

Climbing the slippery totem pole
of open mic comedy monkeys.

Historically, the show has stopped at 11pm — or sometimes as early as 10:30pm — which often meant that very few (if any) of the last group would get up. This is where I’ve toiled, for about a year, and why I sometimes go half a dozen open mic visits between times on stage.

About a month ago, I started to occasionally get drafted up as part of the first group, the low-ranking open mic veterans. This is a lot more fun, when it happens; I get to go up when the audience is still fresh, I can socialize afterward without interference from pre-stage jitters, and I can catch the last bus out of the city without making a panic-filled dash for it. It’s a little thing, but it feels gratifying to have some tangible benefits after all the months of slogging.

In a hyper-competitive environment like stand-up, even tiny gains tend to get noticed and magnified by others, especially those comics with comparable levels of talent and experience. Some of my peers and friends have been happy for me, while others with a little bit less seniority have been, well, let’s say audibly and visibly annoyed. While I’d like to be a better person than this, a small part of me must admit that if someone’s going to be envious and malicious about it, then their tears taste delicious.¹

On the other hand, the club is changing ownership in just a few months, at which time all of my hard work and seniority might get reset to zero.

TACTICAL ERROR: ME

1. This point probably deserves its own post, but the only thing to do when someone else does well is to be magnanimous about it. Life is too short to get torn apart on the inside by petty jealousies, for one, and besides: the person who’s down today could just as easily be the person who’s up tomorrow. [↩]

 — Posted by CJ under Creating a Comic. Please comment or trackback!