July 3, 2010 2100 HOURS: As usual, I find myself sitting somewhere wondering how the Hell I got there. This time, it’s the Los Angeles Convention Center, waiting to go on at the Last Comic Standing finals at, of all places, the LA Anime Expo.
It’s 90 seconds before my set. I am officially informed that there are approximately 1,800 people in the audience. My last stand up audience? 30. Tops. Some of you may have seen that routine. The material is the exactly the same. X-fucking-rated.
Fact #1: I know nothing about Anime other than the fact that it’s cartoons from Japan. Absolutely nothing. Fact #2: I know less than nothing about stand up. This will be my 4th time getting up--ever. Fact #3: I’m fucked.
The only thing I do know? I have made one commitment to myself. Get. Through. The set.
So how and why am I here? Great question.
Let’s back up 24 hours.
As I’ve mentioned before, I work with a 17-year old girl, (my faux “daughter”), as a mentor, “life coach” or, as she refers to me, kidnapper (she lived with me for the past 4 months—long story, we’re writing the movie). Anyway, we’ll call her Veruca.
Well, Veruca is obsessed with Anime. Obsessed with it in the way that only these Anime Addicts get obsessed and convinces me and my roommate at the time Kristin to dress up and attend the Expo with her. I figure there are worse things I can get paid to do, so I agree and off we go to Aahs to procure some slutty costumes:
Costumes in order, we head off to the Expo, where we wander around, flash our asses (I’m a great life coach...come on, gimmee a break, she was off wandering around being a big girl)...
...and take pictures with other freaks in costumes or "Cosplay" as it’s called in the Anime world:
Anyway, later that day at lunch over some crappy chicken tenders, we start a conversation with the dad of some of the other teeny boppers, bopping around. Out of the blue, one of his kids mentions that the Anime Expo version of Last Comic Standing auditions are later in the day.
My interest is piqued. What could I possibly have to lose? Dignity? No. Respect? Gone. Credibility? Ha. Kissed that one goodbye back in the heroin days.
So off I go to test my mettle against the best the Expo has to offer.
The Audition
I’m nervous, because with an audience of about 200 people, this is definitely the largest audience for whom I’ve ever performed stand up. Everyone gets 2 minutes. It’s pretty easy to please when you’re a chick talking about porn for 2 minutes in a slutty costume. I pick my best jokes, get in, get the laughs and get out. When I sit down, the screen that the sound guys are operating and using to roast the comics when they are done reads: BRIDGET IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR BONER.
This is also the first time I’m openly heckled by another comic who goes after me. Ok. Maybe not the first. The first time I ever went up and popped my stand up cherry, EVERY SINGLE COMIC who went before me felt the need to make some comment about my ass.
But this is different. This guy is mean-spirited. At some point during the audition, Kristin joins me in loving support. Right after me this dude gets up and starts his routine by saying, “Let’s give Bridget a hand for being brave. Brave enough to bring a friend who’s much hotter than her along.” No one laughs but me. And my laughter comes from a place of supreme discomfort. Not genuine amusement. I’m confident enough in my semi-mediocre looks to admit my friend is way hotter than me, and I have no problem with a joke at my expense, just so long as it’s funny. This just isn’t funny.
My cheeks burn with the fire of embarrassment. I sink into my chair. I understand then what a long road I am in for if I am to continue down into the cutthroat underworld of stand up comedy.
It’s right as I am realizing I may not have thick enough skin and be masochistic enough to continue down this path…when they announce that I am one of the 12 finalists.
Oh. No. Fucking. Shit. I didn’t actually think I’d make it to the next round...
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