So I didn’t have anything concrete planned for a show tonight. There was the BYOT (Bring Your Own Team – put names in a bucket and get called up) at iO that I was thinking about at the beginning of the day, but I had wanted to have something actually scheduled just in case I didn’t get called up to play. So, I posted on Facebook that I was looking to jump in with someone. About 20 minutes later, I got a message from a girl (now a friend) named Lisa who told me I could jump in with her team at a place called Silvie’s around 9:40pm. Now, before I begin about Silvie’s, I must say I am very grateful that she asked me to play and I enjoyed meeting each one of the team members (team name is Yes Sandwich). They were very nice and the conversations we had before going on was hilarious and enjoyable. As for the show, that was a disaster zone and it had nothing to do with the team. It was the venue. This place is not suitable for comedy. It sounds like I’m the conductor of the excuse train, but I’m not kidding. When I got there, we were already on the wrong foot. I walked in to find a white haired middle-aged Italian door man who immediately asked me what group I was in. He skipped past all the introductions. I told him I didn’t know because I was jumping in with someone. His response was, “I don’t know who you know, but you have to talk to someone cause you owe $5.” My energized positive attitude went right out the door. I was furious. Not because I had to pay $5, but because the guy was rude. This would lead to me walking 2 feet to my left to take out money out of the ATM while he watched my every move. Absolutely awful. Before I could give him the $20 he already have $15 waiting for me. He knew the score. He’d been here before.
I turned the corner to find a band screaming and riffing on guitars while alternating back and forth between signing and talking with puppets. It was a mad house. Trying to do improv for a bar crowd who is there to see a music show….the worst. This crowd wanted nothing to do with anything. They were stone faced chatter boxes who wouldn’t stop talking. Finally, our group got called up to play. There was absolutely no room on the stage. It was filled with guitars, a drum-set a keyboard, mic stands, and speakers. Wires were everywhere. There wasn’t enough room to do anything but be in a band. So we decided to step off the stage and do the show on the floor. The place was SO LOUD. We probably should have each had microphones. In order to even hear each other on stage (the floor) we had to scream. The scenes came off like people hated each other because everyone was yelling. Also, this audience was the young/hip type of crowd that’s into suggestions like dildos, dicks, and ball sacks. In other words, if you were to mention either of those things specifically you would have killed. However, I wasn’t about to stoop to their level. I’ve been working to become a better improviser and performer, not to make a bunch of immature drunken goons laugh because I said a word we thought was funny in grade school. I knew I could do that. I just didn’t. I could have easily walked in and said, “Whoa what should I do with all these balloon dicks? Blow em’?”
We were supposed to do a 10 minutes show, but I’m fairly certain we ended it after 6 minutes. As we walked past the crowd, a nasally voiced blonde murmured “that was the worst thing I’ve ever seen.” I laughed it off. We all did. We knew this wasn’t the place for a comedy show, but we tried it anyway. That’s what makes all the difference. I honestly didn’t give a shit. HEY I’M NOT BITTER, RIGHT!!? I knew I was making an attempt at good improv. I know when I’ve had a shit show because of moves I was making that weren’t working. That was not the case here. It was just not the place for it. I would have had a better chance at a funeral home. In the end, I’m happy I met this group and hope to jump in with them again in the future. Just next time at a venue suitable for a comedy show. Like the Clark/Lake Blue Line stop.