PERFORMANCE B: THE VAULT
So, while that was a good show, this one wasn't so good. Having now performed my monologue in its entirety, and having it received with overwhelming positivity, I felt as though I should be fine using that material for my upcoming performance at The Vault. The way I saw it, people who went to something like a cabaret would be smart—I figured they'd be freethinkers, fond of anything anti-conformist or anti-establishment. That's the perfect audience for my material, so I changed almost nothing.
I rocked up to the venue and went up to the desk to meet with the organisers. I spoke to the MC, and he got me to present the beginning and end of my act so he knew when to get ready to come back on-stage himself. He was a real oddball: his face was painted, highlighting his blank expression, and, by proxy, his deadpan voice. He said he would improvise his response to my material; in my mind, I'm like "Oh, better switch to improv mode!" The way I saw it, he was playing a sad clown, so I was like "I'd better pick a character to speak to him in, make him think I'm funny... um... eerr... :O I know, I'll act all pretentious!" He kept getting my name wrong—I figured he was just doing that on purpose as part of his character, but in retrospect, I don't think he was putting on an act. That meant, when he asked me a question, my fake-arrogant response of 'Well, if you identify me correctly, I guess I can answer that :)" probably came across as who I really was, rather than who I was pretending to be...
Yeah, great start: make the host think you're a total asshole :P
Anyway, I went into the dressing room. I was the only stand-up comedian, so I didn't have any comedy buddies to talk to (that's not to say none of the other acts were funny, just that it wasn't like the RAW competition in terms of performers). I shyly introduced myself, sat down, answered the few questions they asked about what I did, and receded into my shell. One performer came in and said she saw my RAW performance, complimenting me—this only reaffirmed the existing confidence I had in my material. Other than that, though, I really didn't say much. I didn't know what to say; I never really know what to say :P The only thing I remember talking about was someone's microphone: she was talking to someone else about how the sound guy said the mic was 'mono', and how they thought that might mean the sound quality was worse, so I explained that 'mono' only meant there was one sound input (as opposed to 'stereo', which is two), and assured her that it wouldn't affect the sound quality. So I suppose you can't say I didn't take any opportunities to talk to someone, but that I only took the safest ones :P
(Note to self: work at audio store, seek out hot chicks who are having trouble, dazzle them with your l33t tech knowledge which isn't that l33t but they don't know that, and get laid)
I was also getting more nervous by the minute, checking the time far more frequently than I did at RAW. While the act before me was on, I went through my lines under my breath, shaking as per usual. Eventually, I went to the side of the stage, and was called on. Rather than being on the stage himself, the MC was projecting his head onto a moon-shaped screen above the stage (which is basically his shtick), and I only just realised this. I reacted to it vocally, but, of course, everyone else already knew, so they didn't care, did they :P My reaction prompted the MC to go "Did you want to have a conversation?" to which I responded "Well, if you want to, we can :)". Again, in retrospect, I have doubts about his being in character at the time; I think he seriously wanted me to stop talking to him and get on with my act :P
Now I start my routine. The train joke gets almost no reaction—this is bad, as I've missed the best opportunity to gain the audience's confidence in my ability. But, alas! The almighty pornography joke is next! You know, that joke where I had to talk over the top of laughter to get to the end? So much for that: hardly anyone laughed at it. This is fucking with my confidence, and, though I'm not fully aware, this is making me appear nervous on-stage: I'm tilting my head towards the floor, making far less eye contact with the audience than at RAW (I never took my eye off them there), and I was speaking with less volume and less punch. This was going downhill fast.
Then I got to the gay marriage jokes. Upon mentioning our Prime Minister, Julia Gillard, who I was very clearly about to mock, someone in the audience said "Woo! Go Julia!" I almost stopped to respond, but what the hell am I supposed to say to that? If I'm about to take the piss out of someone, the build-up to this being obvious to anyone who's listening, and you praise the person I'm about to ridicule... what am I supposed to reply with other than "You're a fucking moron"? Not that I was super irritated, but it bewildered me that someone was dumb enough to say that given the risk they took of being mocked themselves in front of a crowd.
And, again, these jokes weren't received too well—given the porno stuff didn't go so well either, I was starting to think I was performing in front of conservatives (one of which seems to like our PM, who's technically a liberal... yeah >.>). At that point, I more or less concluded this gig wouldn't go so well, but I pressed on.
Next up, I made fun of the Federal Opposition Leader. Again, no real response. This gets to me even more: if they like Gillard, theoretically, they wouldn't like her opposition. I started to wonder: do these people know fucking anything about politics? I'm not exactly up on every issue under the sun, but these people don't seem to know, or care about, anything political whatsoever. Are they disillusioned with the political system, thinking they're above it all, believing it to be an illusion of civil freedom in terms of how their country is run? Or are they just plain retarded?
I eventually got onto the sex jokes; thankfully, these were received a little better than the first half. To my astonishment, I got a really good response to another line I thought had little comic value—a new line, in fact. When talking about the 'sleeping together' euphemism, I said the following:
"'Sleeping together'? Correct this virgin if he's wrong, but——"-and I was cut off by laughter, just like last time. I then said something like "that's the best joke I have", and, to these people, this was evidently true :P Incidentally, the line about fucking someone who's sleeping, which got me a surprise round of applause last time, got little-to-no response this time, even when I paused intentionally to let them laugh. My boost of confidence quickly came to an end.
When I got into the physical part where I rotated myself on all fours, I nearly slipped over, cos it was raining outside, meaning my shoes were wet. I don't even know if they laughed at that; I was beyond caring by this stage :P I got to the end, said my goodbyes, and went back to the dressing room, very disappointed. I didn't know what went wrong, but something did. Was it the material? Was it my delivery? I didn't know.
The intermission followed my act. I went upstairs and found my mum and two others who came along to watch (I didn't even know there was an upstairs, meaning the few people up there must have felt super-excluded cos I never looked at them, lol). I remarked how disappointed I was, and kept wondering what exactly just happened. After the intermission, the MC came on-stage with some toy aeroplanes. He tied them to a rope, tied the rope to a helmet on his head, turned the planes on, and swung them around his head. I didn't really find it funny (I was hardly in the mood to laugh after my performance :P), but the audience laughed whenever he was hit, and cheered him on the whole way through.
At this point, I started to make sense of it: these people weren't interested in politics. They didn't care about social issues. They found more enjoyment in watching someone spin toy aeroplanes around their head than being intellectually provoked. A line in my act proved it, too: they laughed when I called myself a virgin, cos I was mocking myself. What did this mean for me? Well, I now knew: if I was to ever go back there, and if I wanted laughs, I'd have to focus more on self-depreciation (which isn't really a proble, cos anyone who reads this blog on a regular basis knows I'm a fucking pro at that shit :P). These people wanted to laugh at the suffering of the performers, and if that's what they want, that's what you have to give them, whether you like it or not. They're not there for you; you are there for them.
On a side note, there was a band playing throughout the night, and they rounded off the evening with some music. Each member of the band had an alias and a costume; the bass player was a chick called Serpentine, and from memory, she had on either a mask or face paint around her eyes. I looked at her quite a few times while they were playing, cos she was kinda hot :) But, in addition to being chicken shit with women to begin with, I couldn't work out how to talk to her anyway. I mean, she was on-stage, so I couldn't interrupt her; I'd just performed like crap, so I haven't exactly marketed myself very well; and I've called myself a virgin, which, for a woman like her (I'd say she was a couple of years my elder) was probably a turn off. She also seemed kinda apathetic, which turns me off, but I still found her attractive, so I kept looking anyway. They called themselves 'The Elastic Waste Band'—problem is, there are other bands (famous ones) that go by this name , meaning I can't find anything on the internet about their actual names, their hometown, nothing. Given that I haven't really been attracted to someone in a while, it was kinda cool to feel that again, even if it wasn't very strong and it had no chance of going anywhere.
It was then time to leave. As I was leaving, four or five people came up to me and said I did a good job on-stage. And they weren't bullshitting, either; the smile on their faces when talking to me told me they were being honest. That was a relief: at least someone enjoyed it. One guy was amazed I was doing this at only nineteen, and he gave me lots of compliments—I guess, while you can't please all the people all the time, it's also pretty hard to please no one at all. What sucked was, I performed way better at RAW, but never spoke to the audience. Can you imagine how many compliments I missed? All for going out the wrong exit. Fuck :P
I was also paid for my work, which was a surprise cos I wasn't told I'd get moniez. Again, kinda ironic that I've been paid nothing to perform well, but I have been paid to perform poorly. What gives?
In retrospect, I don't think this audience was very bright. I've bombed before, and it sucks when it happens, but the previous times I've bombed, the material has been totally untested. This time, not only was the material tested, but it was the best monologue I've ever done, going off the first audience's reaction. Different people have different tastes in comedy, and there's nothing I can do about that; but some people are just too stupid to get the jokes, and I think that was a problem here. At least I know that now. But, as George Carlin once said (though I cannot find the exact quote anywhere):
"If material works one night, but doesn't work the next, it's them, not you."
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