On Killing

I got a lot of laughs at the open mic tonight. I used my best jokes on a relatively large audience. it was one of those times where they can tell you know what you’re doing, so they laugh at anything you say. and there’s that deep, room-moving laughter that feeds my soul. I got it on “stealing dogs.” I don’t know if it’s the idea or the delivery or both, but they liked it today. 

It feels weird to kill with jokes that have bombed elsewhere. audiences are so fickle. they decide whether or not they like you in 5 seconds and if they don’t they won’t listen to anything you have to say. I pay close attention to my reactions to things other people say and try to use these sensibilities to guide my own act. 

People are so nice to you after you kill. I don’t know what to do with it. I usually just slink around the room like an awkward orphan and eventually leave.

When the mic’s over and everyone’s left to mingle I feel lost. I wish the big black dude who also killed came in earlier so he could have seen my set. That would’ve given us something to talk about. But he didn’t, so we don’t. 

I find that in all aspects of my life i have this deep desire to impress those who are better than me at what i do. I don’t know to what extent people are aware of this phenomenon, but it definitely exists for me, so I'm guessing others feel it too.