How I Bombed

I went on open-mic again last night to test out some rewritten jokes and new ones that I didn't get to do last time.

It was NOT pretty.

I really appreciated the audience for being so civil though. They weren't booing me off the stage, but they weren't exactly laughing either. In fact, I think I noticed a couple of poorly stifled yawns. I remember one gentleman in the second row just smiling at me the whole 5 minutes like he was in a trance of vicarious embarrassment. Thank you sir for your unspoken moral support.

When I finished, I stepped off the stage to polite applause, emotionless. I was still reeling a little from the audience's response, or lack thereof, when the owner waved me off to the side and gave me a short critique.

It was NOT pretty.

He told me my story was too long, nobody could relate to what I was talking about, there were too many names and no punchlines, the audience lost interest and stopped listening, have I ever taken his class (I have)... It was just plain, awful!

I felt terrible for the next ten minutes or so, zoning out of whatever the next comedian had to say and was quite distraught. When I did regain focus, one of the comedians was poking fun at my act, which strangely, I did not mind because he was spot-on.

I. Was. Boring! I was giving a history lecture. An uninteresting one at that. I was not doing comedy, but indulging myself in the sound of my own voice droning away.

The best thing that came out of the whole experience was however, I wouldn't have realized how badly I bombed until the club owner gave me straight up, no sugar-coating, direct and constructive criticism.

So thank you, and I will try my hardest to never let the following happen again.

(Note to self as I watch this brutal video: DON'T DO VOICES!)