I had someone message me on Facebook and tell me he wasn’t on the lineup for the Yoo Hoo room tonight. I told him he was in the Main Room. Either, way, judging by the timestamp on his messages, he was 15 minutes late for either show. Amazing. Because that’s what I want to be thinking about on my day off.
It was a rough week. I’m so behind on booking, it’s not even funny. It stresses me out and then I can’t be charming or whatever it is Barb and Dave think it is that I offer to the comedians.
Half of my job is sitting at my desk, second, third, fourth, and fifth-guessing my choices. I haven’t booked this person who has been on my booking list, but if I book him, is the show going to be cancelled? Are there too many white guys on the lineup already? How funny is he in comparison to all of the other white guys who keep asking me to book them?
I’m deeply aware that I’m holding hope and dreams in my sweaty, clumsy hands. People are so quick to thank me or defend me because I seem to be on their side, not realizing that it doesn’t matter if I’m on their side or not (I am, usually.) But I am booking one room in one club in one city in one state in one country. I am such a small part of their comedy journey, and there is so little that I can actually do for them. But they act like it’s everything.
I want to quit every day. Every day, I get to work and I think, “I can do this, at least for one more day. I just have to do this today. Tomorrow, who knows? Maybe I’ll get hit by a bus and someone else can decide who gets five minutes and who gets seven.”
The auditions were particularly bleak this week. I lost count of how many comedians did “jokes” in which fatness was the “punchline”. I weigh 300+ pounds. I’m very visible. I’m the person who checked you in, introduced myself as a booker, and am currently sitting in the back of the room, trying to figure out how to book you. Know your audience.
They don’t even realize to adjust, though. It’s not a thought. The attitude about fatness being synonymous laziness, grossness, worthlessness is so ingrained in our society. Nobody thinking about what jokes to do and what not to do, see me in a position of power, and rethink anything that they’re going to say about being fat or fat people in general. And they’re super lazy jokes, too.
Then again, last week, I had two comedians get on stage and say that dinner with them is basically a sex contract. Like, super 90s, hackety-hack-hack jokes. Dave’s note for one of them was “real comic”. Dave wasn’t wrong, the guy was really good, aside from his closer. The other guy actually mentioned Aziz Ansari, and was clearly working on a brand-new bit. (Which is such a GREAT idea at auditions, by the way. We don’t mention to not do that at EVERY SINGLE AUDITION or anything…)
But it’s amazing that with all of the Me Too and Times Up and women’s marches going on, that these jokes are still a viable part of a male comedian’s repertoire. I can’t wait for next week in which six or seven female comedians lament that they’ve never been sexually harassed or raped. Aren’t they pretty enough?
Okay, that got a little salty. I should end this on an upbeat note. But I’m not going to. Have a nice day.