It was a cold December and I was on a road trip with my good friend Dave to perform a week of stand-up comedy at in a Funny Bone Comedy Club near the east coast. After 10 hours in the car, we arrived at the club with only a couple of 
hours before the show - just enough time to get our bearings, check into the comedy condo, and wind down a bit before the crowd would begin to push through the doors looking for a place to get warm and enjoy some cocktails and laughs.
It was a Wednesday night and there was only one show scheduled. It was a small crowd that only filled the first two tiers of the club, but a crowd that came prepared to enjoy the art of live comedy. I was the MC and Dave was the middle act, supporting a headliner that I soon found out, was both arrogant and demanding. He gave me his intro and the facts he wanted me to mention. While I was introducing him on stage, I looked over to see him shaking his head in disapproval. As he shook my hand and I was turning over the stage, he leaned in and said “Not even close!”
I was bothered at first, and wondered what I forgot to say. The 20 second segment of the show played over and over in my mind, and I could not put my finger on why my introduction was met with such dissatisfaction. Luckily my confusion and concern was removed from my mind after the show as the wonderful club patrons treated us all like rock stars. We were all signing glasses and shirts, and shaking hands with people who said it was the best comedy show they had attended. It was awesome to be appreciated.
When all of the audience left and only comics and staff remained, the headliner let me know exactly where I had strayed with his introduction. Apparently, the introduction he provided was not just snippets of information from which I could use my poetic license to glean highlights and communicate them to the masses… Oh no… This was a script that was written to be performed in the exact fashion in which it was written. According to the headliner, each word was ‘given careful consideration and the order of each word, sentence, and phrase, was designed to show he was in demand and exceptionally brilliant’.
The rest of the week was what you would expect from a person who has an over-inflated view of themselves. As the MC, and a comic who was just one step up from an open mic-er, I was treated to limited conversation. a couple closed door meetings between Dave and ‘Mr. Ego’ – where he promised Dave some road shows with him. I was not to know because the headliner didn’t think “I was not ready.” This statement really didn’t bother me because he showed up at the club every night AFTER I performed my set, meaning HE NEVER SAW ME PERFORM!
After only the second show, this headliner involved the manager of the club to inform me the headliner didn’t think I was doing the MC job very well and she was letting me know I was getting fired for the week. Eventually this turned out to be false, after about an hour, and it was just a funny joke (to him). He was nice enough to “let me finish out the week” but was informed later I was in fact NOT in jeopardy of losing the job. I guess this was just one of the many methods he uses to prey on the weak subconscious all comics’ seem to process.
But this behavior taught me a valuable lesson in the art of stand-up comedy. Sometimes, it is not about being funny. Sometimes, it is about being able to push through the mental barrier of self-doubt, and insecurities and to believe you are great. I tried to put myself into his mind and wondered what it would be like to see yourself so positively. To believe in yourself so strongly that you think every joke you write is hysterical must be exhilarating!! To possess such arrogance that all outside distractions are trivial, and any advice given by other comedians ‘must be created out of jealously and spite’ must be awesome! To be so rigid that you scoff at the methods of others, and dismiss their successes as a ‘blind squirrel finding an acorn’ must feel amazing! But I didn’t feel any of these things when I can see how they affect those around me.
So I don’t believe I will ever embrace the values shown to me by the headliner’s conceitedness. I choose instead to write better comedy, help my fellow comics, and enjoy the company of everyone around me. Because in the end, the goal is to entertain the masses, and when a joke falls flat, or our timing is off, and the laughs do not present themselves, our insecurity can be a 
powerful negative force that can lead to destruction of confidence. And while standing on stage with nothing but a microphone, one needs to feel as confident as possible. It’s a scary place to be. And ultimately it will be our friends and those around us that will put us back on the path that we, as comics, were meant to travel. And I shall enjoy the journey – and the company of those who travel it with me.
