Comedy Good

Last night's open mic was a great experience. It was also the worst of the three performances I've done so far. The first two times I went up, it was with a 3-minute act I'd painstakingly crafted with Randy over the course of two freaking months, and we'd rehearsed it into the ground until I had no idea what I was even talking about anymore. But by the time I debuted with it that first night at People's Republic, I knew it so well there was really no way to totally bomb. The folks loved the opener, so after that all was good.
The second night was at Comedy Underground, which is a much tougher room, because it's an actual club. You can feel the desperation and terror when you walk down the stairs to the club, and it doesn't help that the room is almost empty on amateur night. I tried to make a little dig at the MC that fell flat, and got the light way early, so I had to rush through my closer. All that would've been fine, if it wasn't also game night at the sports bar upstairs, and was also the night of the legendary Seahawks/Packers Worst Call Ever. As they called my name and I made my way to the stage, we heard a cacophony from  upstairs, as that call came down on live TV-- just as I grabbed the mic. Not a great night.
So last night, back at PROK, I tried to wing it a bit. I didn't have jokes, just some vague idea of what I wanted to talk about, and it went well anyway, at least by my own metric, which was "Did anyone laugh at anything I said at all? Yes? Awesome!" But I got on and instantly fell into a rhythm, and felt very comfortable. I think I'm getting the hang of this. It's still a long way to real competence, but well begun is half done.
Somehow, this already feels more natural than art ever has.