I was 17 when I decided I wanted to try stand-up comedy. I don't know what hell gave me the idea that I should give comedy a shot, but when you're young, hung, and looking for an excuse to dress like Eddie Murphy in “Delirious,” a valid reason isn't always necessary.
I lied about my age, pretending to be 18, so I'd be allowed to perform as an opening act with a five-minute set at a local comedy club. Since I had no experience, I also lied to the emcee, telling him to announce me as a young comic who was featured on “The Rosie O'Donnell Show” several times.
When I hit the stage and grabbed the microphone from the stand to rock out with my stolen jokes out, the microphone came apart. A staff member immediately joined me on stage, fixing the technical difficulty in the longest minute of my life. The crowd was laughing at me and I didn't even tell them a joke yet! To recover, and to prove to the audience that I was the child prodigy comic from “The Rosie O'Donnell Show” that my back-story claimed I was, I knew I had to make light of what happened.
“And I was afraid nobody would laugh!” I addressed directly to the crowd, winning them over. Wisecrackers Comedy Club liked my performance so much that they invited me back several times.
A year later, I went to college and traded stand-up comedy for a career in binge drinking and desperately trying to get on “The Real World.”
A few years later, I decided to give comedy another shot while visiting my family for the Thanksgiving holiday.
I had my set prepared, but I was inspired at the last minute by a poster I saw at Spencer Gifts the morning of my intended comeback, displaying a list of 1,001 alternative names for a vagina.
“Lasagna lips? Tampon tunnel? Penis coffin?” I read to myself. “These are hilarious. I have to make this part of my set tonight!”
When I got home, I immediately rewrote my entire set around female genitalia synonyms.
Since I was a college student home for break, I made up a story about why I had to bring my dirty laundry home.
“Growing up, my mother referred to her vagina as her 'hamper of goodies,'” I said. “So I can't do my own laundry because every time I see a load of dirty laundry, I can't help but think of my mother's p—-y!”
Yeah, that really happened. Instead of laughter, I heard gasps as I witnessed jaws dropping.
The emcee interrupted me on stage, grabbed the microphone from my hand, and kicked me off the stage before telling me I was disgusting.
Sorry that I made a joke out of your vagina for a laugh, Mom. I guess not every comedian is funny, and not every funny person is a comedian.