Comedy Dream
I rarely write about my dreams, except when they're comedy related. And since whenever my dreams are comedy related, they're bad dreams, comedians can enjoy reading them all the more.
Ah-hem.
The dream opens with me at some weird bar / comedy club combination. We're putting on a show for my birthday. I must be a real narcissist in the dream world, hoo-boy! Anyway, it's the normal group of people, and the headliner is Joe DeRosa, a man who I’ve met never and has no real reason to want to perform at my party.
I'm talking with the owners of the club, these two brothers, and they keep asking me if I'm from Intel or Microsoft because, apparently, both companies have brief twenty-minute shows they're doing for their company. That's right: twenty minutes.
I say "no," and they tell me everything's set. Woo! Party!
The show starts and no one shows up. A few people wander in from the bar and watch as if watching comedy was the last thing they wanted to do that day or any other. Comedian after comedian bombs, and bombs hard. No one's having a good time here. No one’s laughing, the mic isn't working, just a terrible, terrible show.
Wait.
Suddenly, all these roadies storm the stage and start unpacking all their equipment. And for some reason, no one's stopping them, no one's asking any questions. Boom. They begin playing this hardcore metal. People stream in, everyone's having fun.
But the show hadn't finished. I hadn't gone on stage and neither had Joe DeRosa. So I go up to the owners. They tell me, "Hey, man, you and your Microsoft buddies got your twenty minutes." I told them I wasn’t from Microsoft – this was supposed to be a ninety minute show.
"Oh, man, I'm sorry. We must have overbooked. Anyway, you still owe us three hundred dollars for the room."
"Hey, oh, I thought we were splitting the receipts from the door?"
"Yeah, but you got no one in, and we need to recoup our costs."
"But you cut my show off seventy minutes early!"
And then, I suppose the moral of the dream, the club/bar owner says, "Maybe you'd be a bit further along in comedy if you really understood how the system works."
How true, subconscious. How true.
Ah-hem.
The dream opens with me at some weird bar / comedy club combination. We're putting on a show for my birthday. I must be a real narcissist in the dream world, hoo-boy! Anyway, it's the normal group of people, and the headliner is Joe DeRosa, a man who I’ve met never and has no real reason to want to perform at my party.
I'm talking with the owners of the club, these two brothers, and they keep asking me if I'm from Intel or Microsoft because, apparently, both companies have brief twenty-minute shows they're doing for their company. That's right: twenty minutes.
I say "no," and they tell me everything's set. Woo! Party!
The show starts and no one shows up. A few people wander in from the bar and watch as if watching comedy was the last thing they wanted to do that day or any other. Comedian after comedian bombs, and bombs hard. No one's having a good time here. No one’s laughing, the mic isn't working, just a terrible, terrible show.
Wait.
Suddenly, all these roadies storm the stage and start unpacking all their equipment. And for some reason, no one's stopping them, no one's asking any questions. Boom. They begin playing this hardcore metal. People stream in, everyone's having fun.
But the show hadn't finished. I hadn't gone on stage and neither had Joe DeRosa. So I go up to the owners. They tell me, "Hey, man, you and your Microsoft buddies got your twenty minutes." I told them I wasn’t from Microsoft – this was supposed to be a ninety minute show.
"Oh, man, I'm sorry. We must have overbooked. Anyway, you still owe us three hundred dollars for the room."
"Hey, oh, I thought we were splitting the receipts from the door?"
"Yeah, but you got no one in, and we need to recoup our costs."
"But you cut my show off seventy minutes early!"
And then, I suppose the moral of the dream, the club/bar owner says, "Maybe you'd be a bit further along in comedy if you really understood how the system works."
How true, subconscious. How true.
posted by Mike Drucker at
6:37 AM
2 Comments:
Hey, remember last night when the lights went out and three comics went up by candlelight? Yeah...
That's hysterical.
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