My First Gig

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My seven-minute engagement in a comedy club last Saturday night took all week.

On Monday, I bought a black dress for $15 at a thrift store. At home, I noticed it had static cling, revealed more cleavage than I wanted, and smelled like the thrift store. I knew I would feel more confident if I found an alternative rather than wash and alter the dress.

On Tuesday, I checked out a fair trade clothing store. They had a delightful number I could see wearing again, for $89 plus tax.

On Wednesday, I came up with a Golden Globe-inspired comment about my black dress being in solidarity with the dairy cows that have to put up with non-consensual sex and have a calf every year to keep their jobs. (A friend noticed that line got the only spontaneous applause of the evening.)

On Thursday, I took back the first dress to discover the thrift store does exchanges, not refunds. After ample angst, I selected a non-returnable necklace and bracelet that I hoped would complement the outfit. They did. Phew!

On Friday, I solidified plans with the two friends who were planning to accompany me on the bus. Two of us would board the Bus 7 that left the stop near my place at 6:50 pm and the other one would join us two stops later, at 6:54.

On Saturday, after waiting since 6:45, Bus 7 hadn’t come by 7:10. I hailed a cab for us. This hobby was getting expensive.

The venue was the dark basement of a pizza place, with a mike and a light at the front, forty assorted seats, a few tables each bearing one flickering tea light, and a bathroom up a step and down a black hallway at the back.

The lone server guffawed when I ordered ginger ale because I wanted to perform sober. She forgot to bring it when she came back a few minutes before show time with the wine and beer for my table.

I’m glad I:

  • invited friends, so mine wasn’t the only grey or white head in the place,
  • left home early enough to recover from the bus fiasco, and
  • keep my cool in spite of surprises because I knew my material cold.

Next time I will:

  • bring water,
  • take a flashlight for finding the washroom, and
  • slow down and enjoy the experience.

It was real.


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