3 Easy ways to Fail at an Open Mic

Reading comedy to an audience is a lot like losing your virginity; if it goes well you will remember it as the introduction to unimaginable euphoria... if it goes wrong...

          Reading comedy to an audience is a lot like losing your virginity; if it goes well you will remember it as the introduction to unimaginable euphoria which you will seek again and again for the rest of your life. If it goes wrong you will want to rip your own testicles off, throw them at the ground, and stomp on them forever, and you will never be happy again. The only difference is that at an open mic, it's a good thing if the crowd of people watching you laughs uncontrollably until you run away (like they don't have problems too).

  I have had rooms of people rolling in ecstasy  (he said, reassuring himself). That said, I just got back from an open mic, where I read a couple humor pieces I'd recently written, and the crowd basically felt embarrassed for me, until we awkwardly parted for the last time (Yes, sex will be a metaphor throughout). Here's a few ways to fail miserably at reading comedy to people. 

1). Don't Begin with a Sure Thing.

  The first sentence or two will set the tone for the rest of your spotlight. If you begin with something flaccid, your audience will sit there feeling embarrassed for you, confused about what it is exactly you're trying to do. It kills the mood. Audiences are interesting because they are either exceptionally stimulated or entirely desensitized. If you please them from the start, they know how to take the rest of your material. They will listen for jokes, and laugh at them. On the other hand, if you start soft, they won't know if you are ironic, sardonic, or just depressed, and your material will seem impotent.

2). Don't pause for laughs.
          Pausing to let people react can feel fake in a way. It feels unnatural to stop your narrative flow in the hopes of building up nervous tension that forces the audience to react. On the other hand, if you just ramble on in your excitement, you don't give the audience any room to breath, and you'll simply seem anxious to get it over with. It's like you're entirely ignoring your audience's responses and focusing only on your ability to perform. It's entirely one-sided, and you might as well be doing it yourself if that's how you want to play. 

3). Wear your Anxiety.
          If you absolutely need to embarrass yourself, let the audience know how uncomfortable you are. You can do this by apologizing unnecessarily, losing your place, or simply vomiting. If you are having a hard time feeling anxious, just focus on your mistakes and imagine how disappointed the audience might be. You will shake like a leaf. It's cyclic: you have performance anxiety, and if you let your audience know how uncomfortable you are, they will feel responsible for your discomfort, and want it to end as fast as possible. If people avoid eye contact and begin to disperse, congratulations, success averted.  

          Your audience desperately wants you to satisfy them with a girth of good stories and expert delivery. They are rooting for you and will give you the benefit of the doubt if you present yourself with confidence and show that you have a couple solid moves (or even some racy ideas). But if you get in there worrying about how it will be received, or worry about whether or not they will like it, you can put yourself in an embarrassing, sticky sort of mess, and it might take some therapy before your ready to try it again.

Author's Note

All comments are welcome. I'm pretty good about reviewing back.

Reviews

[David Scott]

Well the point proving the case...
Just by thinking thus thought you fail. Then by thinking how to avoid failure you fail. Then by failing you learn what not to do and fail by attempting to not do it.
Hmmmmm?
Yes, sounds a bit like impotence to me.
Like sex, or (as healthy relationships experience sexual intimacy), what we call love, one achieves a successful "stand up" by enjoying the situation.
We invest just enough of ourselves without loosing our identity. Treat the audience like a lover. Need them, want them, appease them, satisfy them, let them have treats and all the little things they desire, enjoy what they give you in return without expecting it, and be willing for everyone to get screwed...
Or... Take a pill. Ha.
Great write! Especially when using your metaphor.

[Epipsychologist]

Thanks David. I think we can look at sex as a good metaphor for a lot of things in life, to the effect that I bet better lovers are more understanding people in general. If you understand sexual relations, you're probably a pretty understanding person in general. Just an afterthought. Thanks for reviewing.

[Peter Regal Whittam]

This was absolutely brilliant! Believe me, my first time in an open mic had me doing these very mistakes, well, except for #2. Although thankfully, I didn't need therapy, I was probably scarred for life...a scar that remains in spite of several successful sessions with an open mic, haha!

All in all, a bloody enjoyable read. The second person tone makes it seem reassuring to the plughts of the anxious, and the undertone of humor is just the icing on the cake. Well done!

[Epipsychologist]

Thank you Peter,

It's kind of weird, I performed at a lot of open mics that went well before that one, and then all the sudden it was like I reverted my shaky, first-time self. It was excrutiating. I'm a glutton for shame though, and look forward to the next time I get to make a fool of myself.

[Baby Ricochet]

I've never done an open mic. Not to many of them around these parts. I have read some of my work to friends though. Does that count?

[Epipsychologist]

If they laugh it does. I'm picturing the reactions people have to your poetry now, ha.

[Marie]

I've never done this kind of thing, but I think I'd be good at it. Not at comedy though. I don't have the kind of personality that goes with it. But you sound like you have it under control.

[Epipsychologist]

I think you'd be good at it too, because your stories have clear narratives, which matters more to a live audience than the nuanced wordplay that readers notice. It's great because you get immediate feedback, and generally real responses. I'd recommend trying it, if you get the chance. (I usually have it under control. Last time I was a little nervous). You lose some of the control you have when your words are read off of a page.