Last night I did a comedy show at Rutgers University. I knew nothing about the show going in besides the fact that my friend Ryan Houssein was also supposed to be on the show. After some parking issues I found the place where I was supposed to be and was surprised to find a class going on. The show was in a giant lecture hall. Awesome.
As I stood outside the room waiting for the class to get out, the people running the show arrived and introduced themselves. I said hello and then we all waited. More students, both comics and audience, started showing up so I began calling and texting Ryan to see where he was. The idea of talking to a bunch of strange college kids in a hallway while they waited to see if I was funny or not was terrifying.
Ryan never came, because he’s the worst.
The class finally let out and we went inside. The comedians grouped together up front and I realized that all the comedians were students, except for me. This raised the question of what exactly I was doing there. Ryan had sent me the email address and told me they were looking for comics, so there I was. It was a weird feeling being the oldest person in the room at the ripe old age of twenty-six.
When I got up to do my set I realized that had anyone walked into the room not knowing there was a comedy show going on they would have just seen a man in a suit talking to a bunch of students in a lecture hall and assumed a class was going on. A hilarious class, but a class none the less. The situation enforced my belief that being a college professor would be great.
The room was filled with easily more than one hundred total strangers. I knew absolutely no one there. I didn’t realize it until after the fact, but before last night I had never done a show to an audience of people I’ve never met before. Lack of familiarity aside, my set went over really well. There really is a huge difference between doing a comedy show for a large audience that’s there to see a comedy show and doing it in a bar. (Note to self: Book more college shows)
When I signed up to do the show they told me it was a benefit and that my material should be family friendly. I forgot that fact until about an hour before I left for the show. Surprisingly it had little effect on my set. But when I got there and realized that everyone in the audience was between the ages of 18 and 22 I was less worried about whether or not I said “shit”. I tried a new joke that I wrote on the ride down and was glad it went over well. The joke about Elvis Costello got a laugh out of probably the only 3 people in the room who knew who Elvis Costello is. Seems to be the normal reaction to that joke, so I’ll probably retire it until such a time as I do a show for a bunch of hipsters or British people.
I was actually really surprised by the level of talent in the room. Being the conceited dick that I am, I just assumed most of the college kids would get up and do hackish retellings of Dane Cook material, and I was happy to see that only one of them got up and did hackish retellings of Dane Cook material. The rest of them were all great. Notably, Patrick Howitt was brilliant.
The only female comedian of the evening (Dinah? Something?) was so good that I’m actually not even 100% sure she was the only female comedian of the group, but easily the only one I remember. (Sorry any other female comedians of the night, you done been outshined) I’ll update this post if I can track down her name because she really deserves the huge bump the five people reading this will give her.
After the show one of the other comics (sorry, sir, don’t remember your name) was talking to me after the show and informed he’d actually seen me at New York Comedy Club a while ago, which was nice. Proof that my “wear the same thing every day so people will recognize you” plan is paying off.
I’ll be doing a show in New Brunswick at The Stress Factory Wednesday March 3rd, and while that’s the only other Rutgers-area show I currently have booked, I’ll be down there again soon.