People laughed at me

I did stand-up! I really did it. My college, Augsburg, held an open mic night on Friday, Dec. 6, and I did about five minutes of stand-up. It felt great to finally get up in front of people actually perform the jokes I have written.

I was incredibly nervous; even more so when I showed up and found it was a poetry and spoken word open mic night. Sensitive girls with guitars and passionate spoken word artists surrounded me, and I had to make a decision: do I give up or go through with it?

I decided to do it. A couple of poets went before me, and when my name was called I went up to the mic expecting to bomb. After all, why would a bunch of soft-hearted, lovesick poets laugh at my jokes?

Me, trying to make poets laugh. Photo by Joe Vokracka.

Something weird happened, though. I killed. I mean I got a lot of laughs, way more than I expected. One joke in particular, which I won't repeat here because of it's vulgarity, made one woman laugh so hard she actually had to leave the room. That was the highlight of the night. No matter how long I do stand-up, I will always remember that moment.

The crowd was pretty small, and the cleaning staff kept coming by with loud machines, so the environment was not the best. But I did not care, and the crowd did not seem to either. I went up and announced I was not a poet, but a comedian, and I expected derision and rejection. Instead, I got applause and acceptance. Sure, some of this applause was friends I invited to watch me, but some was also from the other performers and audience members.

Me, actually making poets laugh. Photo by Joe Vokracka.

I opened with a pregnancy joke I am really proud of, and then just worked through my limited repertoire. There were some jokes I thought about not telling, because I felt it was not the right crowd for them. Knowing and adapting to your audience is a key skill in stand-up, after all. But in the end I decided to go for it, and told every joke I wrote down in my little notebook.

Only one was met with disgust, a particularly crass joke about Chuck E. Cheese. I knew it was not going to go over well though, so I was not disappointed.

This was good practice for when I go to a real comedy club, but ultimately the most valuable thing I received from this experience was a confidence boost. I had done stand-up once before, and it went alright, but this time was completely different. I really felt like a comedian. I went up in front of an audience and got genuine, loud laughter. It was an incredible feeling, and now I am itching to do it again. I have heard about this feeling from other comedians, but did not feel it after my first performance.

Now, though, I cannot wait to get back on stage. Next time, however, I will probably go to a real comedy night rather than a poetry reading.

Here's proof that I'm a comedian. Photo by Joe Vokracka.