Take Two

Tonight is going to be fine, probably. High strung anxiety and self-doubt will beat through Jared as the lead up to the open mic pulsates his nerves. Jared takes a gulping swallow of water at the sink, placing the glass down on the marble vanity with a clinging thud as he swallows and pants. Slowly, he lifts his head and scans his face in the mirror. Soft, lightly tanned skin, two piercing green eyes, and thick black eyebrows resting atop his brow. A greek statuesque nose protruding over his supple lips surrounded by crafted stubble encasing his lower facial features, angular atop a bedrock of a pronounced chin. Jared is a handsome man and he hopes that will carry his comedy tonight.

After watching stand-up his whole life, breaking down the humor to himself and absorbing it all with a compulsivity, Jared was finally as he’d ever be ready to give an actual attempt at the craft. 8 years ago Jared went to a club mic at Stanford’s Comedy Club. He signed up, youthful and charged to do his jokes he worked on for a month and rehearsed a week for. On that night, he went on stage to the tune of “Jared Scuman” boasting from the bloated host. Jared Schuman, didn’t even bother trying to correct the mispronunciation, he was already a wreck. Into saying his first joke he immediately started urinating himself which was quickly highlighted by his beige khakis he wore. Laughter booms through the crowd, the daggers and ridicule tearing Jared which didn’t affect Jared until 10 seconds later. Jared misconstrued the laughter into adoration for his flaccid joke about erectile dysfunction. As his jumbling body of nerves made him aware that he had pissed himself, he quickly ran off stage after 20 painful seconds on stage. It was an eternity to him and a flash in his timeline but the pain was brutal. He ran out on his one beer tab that night, face red with tears. He later went back that week to get his card, fearing snickers and calculating the loss of the $5 comedian’s cover he never got to fulfill for his 3 minutes.

Jared let out a heavy sigh. “Not again” he said at himself in the mirror, admiring his ironed blue polo against his sculpted build he adorned for tonight. He decided on dark black jeans for tonight, out of a remaining gob of fear from that night. He would not be making that mistake again tonight but a little insurance comforted him. Jared from 8 years ago was an unconfident chubby shab of himself. He was now a focused confident man, yet crippled at the thought of making strangers laugh. Regardless, he will fight through it. He wants tonight, regardless of how it goes to be the start of him regularly attending open mics and building connections with the audiences and fellow comedians. Weaponizing the skills he learned at the office and adjusting to what works for comedy through context. Finishing the glass of water in one last desperate gulp, and taking it to his pristine kitchen. His phone buzzing and jostling on the granite counter by the stove.

“Pulling Up”. Gene texted him which reflexively made Jared put his phone in his pocket and pat them for a brisk phone, keys, wallet check. Jared grabbed his mole-skin book and placed the resting pen on the book latching into his pocket as he briskly walked to the door to meet Gene outside. Shutting the door, locking the door, turning around to wave at Gene’s Saturn and jogging down the driveway to ride to the mic.
“Hey bud, thanks man” — Jared

“No problem man, are you ready for your second debut?” — Gene smiled with his comforting, round face. Gene had always been a warm presence in Jared’s life, through many tribulations and achievements.
“Yeah man, hopefully less piss-soaked this time” — Jared
“Well, you really want no piss” — Gene

“You always hope for that, ideally” — Jared
“In this economy, I feel you should expect some piss” — Gene
They snickered at each other and continued esoteric bits with each other. The usual catching up was intersectional with Jared’s excited terror at trying comedy again.
“Man, I’m so glad you weren’t there 8 years ago” — Jared
“Yeah, I’d be adding to the laughter too much” — Gene joked as he drove and bit into a stick of jerky. Jared chuckled and breathed contentedly and grew silent briefly, looking out the window at the passing landscape of Kansas City.
“So, this place isn’t a club?” — Jared
“Nah, clubs suck anyways. This place was recommended to me by a guy at my work that was there on a random Monday. It’s just a pretty hip bar that has an open mic night, and he said he had a great time. He didn’t go up but he saw some great stuff and some real awful people, which is why I’m bringing you.” — Gene
“Hey man, I” — Jared
“I’m fucking with you, man. Get used to it, you’ll probably be fucked with a lot tonight.” — Gene
“Sorry, I’m just nervous” — Jared
“Hey man, you’re braver than me. I’m not going up, and don’t fucking sign me up either.” — Gene

Gene pulled into the parking lot and found a spot back behind the small strip mall. They both exited the car as Gene started walking towards the sidewalk and Jared took in the surroundings of the city. The vibrant flow of people from all styles of hair and colors, the setting sun on the summer sky giving a purplish hue to the engulfing night, streetlights and traffic lights permating the landscape and cars vibrating with music and horsepower. Jared loves the city and wished he still lived here instead of the suburbs which he regrets.
“Over here” — Gene whistled at Jared who was dazed off by the rhythm of the city.

Jared jogged on over, catching up to Jared and walked through the big red door. Walking in the Uptown Arts Bar, immediately noticing the mirror behind the bar lain with every manner of alcohol reflecting the opposing mirror riddled with words from the top to the bottom. Some sort of poem neither would read tonight. The bar bustled with young people, people in their 30’s and the like, and a few elderly men that have to be in their 70’s. A showroom laid under the stairs and past the pulled curtain in the narrow door frame.
“I’ll get us some drinks, you go find where you sign up” — Gene

Jared entered the dark showroom with a few lights only on the empty stage and the unoccupied mic stand. The showroom was so devoid of light in the back and full of sound, it mildly disoriented him until he noticed someone sitting in a control panel box like a mad king. He noticed a clipboard with a pen being bit by the clip, yet he still asked if this is where he signs up.
“Yeah” — Said the host, who wasn’t even looking at him, just throwing a ball up and catching it repeatedly.
“Oh man, a lot of people tonight.” — Jared said as he released a half-giggle.

He looked through the list of names he didn’t recognize with varying gaps. He managed to find a spot at #14.
“What’s your name?” — Jared
“Bill, Bill Haddock. I’m the host.” He finally looks over at Jared and takes him in. His glasses sitting squarely on a medium nose over a thin mustache. His eyes wide and threatening and his face angular and sharp.
“Are you new?” — Bill
“Yes, Jared Schuman, pleased to meet you” — Jared said, offering his hand to shake.
“Cool, cool” — Bill said, taking his hand firmly, and shaking. Cold to the touch from the Tall Boy PBR Bill had been suckling from.
“Did you bring people?” — Bill

“Oh just my buddy and maybe a few people from work” — Jared
“Alright, well, have a good one. We’ll start a little after 9 which means like 9:30” — B

Jared grimaced and walked away, putting his hands in his pockets and shouldering past people bumbling through the thin doorway constantly out and in. The thought of starting at 9:30 with 5 minutes a person means Jared wouldn’t go up until probably 11. Hiim and Gene had gotten there at 8:30 and needed to get up at 6 a.m. for work. Jared shrugged it partially off, still annoyed, since he’d definitely had some late nights and still managed to perform at work hungover or just tired. In his walk he found Gene at the bar procuring two seats for himself and Jared. His gin and tonic beading with sweat, ready for him as Gene sipped from his microbrew.

“You didn’t sign me up, right?” — Gene
“Nah, don’t worry. I’m number 14 so if you have to go I-” — Jared explained as he sat

“It’s fine, it’s been slow at work lately and I really wanna be here for this. Thanks for inviting me.” — Gene

Jared smiled, “And thanks for giving me a ride. I didn’t wanna drive because I might get drunk after my set.”, sipping his g & t, “whether it’s celebratory or sad drinking. But if you need to go I can get a lyft or-” — Jared
“Shhh shhh shut the fuck up, I’m here for you man.” — Gene
Jared’s already smiling face grew wider as he took in the friendship he had built with Gene was really showing its purest form in this moment. He reached into his pocket to grab his mole-skin and a shock fell over his face. It wasn’t in his pocket. He began checking all his pockets and patting his body in vain as he only had pockets on his pants. He was visibly awkward and distraught as Gene noticed.
“What?” — Gene
“Shit, shit..shit” -Jared

“What?”- Gene
“My little notebook with my jokes, I think I left it in the car” — Jared
“Oh, okay. I’ll go get it.” — Gene
“What? No, I’ll go and get it.” — Jared
“No, you sit here and watch our drinks. You’re a little bit of a wreck, you just need to relax.” — Gene
“I’ll get it, it’s no biggie, just buy the next round” — Jared
“You’re too good to me” — Jared
“Shut the fuck up” — Gene says, mockingly blowing a kiss and heading out the door

Jared frantically took out his pen and grabbed a napkin from the bars rack on the counter, he began jotting down a basic outline of his prepared material in the fear that he might have lost or possibly forgotten his notebook at home. He remembered carrying it with him but his brain was not attune to rationale and security in this moment.

“Get you another one?” bellowed the bartender in a feminie voice. Jared looked up to see a woman stone-faced and sour, yet inviting.
“Yeah” — Jared said as he noticed his already ¾’s empty Gin and Tonic and Gene’s half drank microbrew. “Uh, I don’t remember what he was drinking.”
“I poured him earlier. So, another G & T and his beer?” — Bartender
“Yeah, yeah” — Jared
“You going up tonight?” — Bartender
“Yeah, first time” — Jared
“Cool, that’s exciting” — She said with zero eye contact, mixing g & t and pouring the microbrew like an expert who’s been bartending for years. As she said exciting her face succumbed to a genuine smile.
“Yeah, I’m nervous” — Jared
“Oh baby, that’s natural. Just don’t get too drunk before you go up, but tip me like you did.” — Bartender
“Heh, alright. Thank you” — Jared

Her demeanor was a 180 degree turn from his initial first impressions of her. Her face grew dark and distasteful as she turned and saw a man coming in through the door.
“Get out Fred, you’re not welcome here.” — Bartender
“Bitch, I love you!” — Fred
“Get out, you’re cut off” — Bartender
“BITCH, I GOT MONEY!” — Fred
As her temper grew and Fred continued barging in, a group of people surrounded him. A barrage of expletives and physical removal of Fred leading to him being screamed at in the street. They continued yelling with the door ajar as Gene walked back in. Gene rubbernecked at the sight and walked back to his seat, notebook procured and placed in front of Jared.

“Ah thanks.” — Jared
“The hell is all that?” — Gene
“That’s Fred, I guess” — Jared
“Yea, that’s Fred” — Bartender

After the bombardment of an argument coming from outside and echoing inside, the sound halted and the group that shoved him out came back in. One of the group exclaimed that he’s gone, and the Bartender looked relieved.
“What was that” — Jared
“Fred” — Bartender says angry but relieved, half chuckling.
“Too long of a story, hopefully you won’t have to know more about him.” — Bartender said, pouring a drink for another patron.

Jared began flipping through his notebook to his jokes, his jokes written precisely word for word, less like a stand-up set and more like a script he was desperately trying to memorize exactly. He had spent every moment after work that day staring in the mirror, drinking glass after glass of water, and saying every written line. He even recited the words as he pissed until he seemed like an insane man spouting a humorous manifesto. Honestly, he knew all the lines but his doubt made him paranoid as if he was in a play and needed to say every line exactly.

“I just, I-” — Jared was saying, halted by a voice booming from the speakers. The mic was beginning. Time had moved seemingly without Jared checking on it, and it was in fact about 9:20 as he heard the host proclaim they’ll start in about 5 minutes. Jared was three drinks deep now, and becoming tipsy. He wasn’t drunk when he pissed pants 8 years ago on that disastrous night, so he was becoming a little fearful.

“I just wanna do all the jokes right” — Jared
“You’ll be fine” — Gene
“Next drink is my last one till I go up, I don’t wanna be too tipsy or whatever” — Jared

“Well, you won’t go up till 11 so maybe-” — Gene
“Okay, okay, but you know, cut me off” — Jared
“I got you” — Gene

He drank the remainder of his third g & t and motioned for the bartender to give him another, Gene was in nursing mode and mostly flipping through his phone at articles, twitter, and various minutiae. Jared compulsively looked over his jokes like a soliloquy that he was testifying before congress as if he failed he would be impeached, tarred and feathered.
“Hey Gene” — Jared
“Yeah” — Gene said, staring at his phone but offering valid reception through the timbre in his voice.

“Should I do the gay joke I told you about yesterday?” — Jared
Gene pulled away from his phone and erected himself fully in his seat.
“Yeah, it’s funny.” — Gene
“But uh, you don’t think it’s too much?” — Jared
“Well you are gay, so just state that if you get some jeers. But maybe don’t say that one part” — Gene
“The fag part?”- Jared
“Yeah, maybe, probably. I mean, it’s just a harsh word and this place has a uh, vibe” — Gene

Gene didn’t mean that with a homophobic assertation, the Arts Bar definitely had a queer friendly safe-place vibe about it. Before the comedy mic is a poetry mic with cancel-culture types flooding the tapestry of the setting. The vibe was welcoming but threatening to a clueless first timer. Jared also started becoming more and more aware that he hadn’t talked to any of the comics walking around who made themselves with constant ribbings on eachother, demeanor, and consistent drunken giggling. Some of them smelled strongly of marijuana which at this establishment, seems to ferment regardless of who is a comic or not. Despite that, the comedians seemed to be omnipresent and obvious. Jared knew he had to at least attempt to connect with one before he went up.

The sound system boomed once again calling people to the showroom. People flocked along with Gene and Jared as they entered the room, which was very full tonight impressing them both. Jared and Gene squished in between a couple to watch as Jared tried in vain to not flip through his notebook in the harshly dark back row, focusing through passing glances at the blinding stage, blue with neon-tint. The words unreadable, the stage undeniable, he began to sit and watch the host who was way drunker than he thought a host would be.

Despite the inebriated host, he was quite humorous and abrasive, which met with equal parts laughter and groans with the laughter overwhelming the disinterested. He stated some rules about the mic which Jared felt he needed to write down. They were general rules about tipping your bartender, not heckling excessively, light at 4 minutes with a minute to get off or suffer his wrath, fucking by the dumpster which he stated you shouldn’t do, and only smoking weed on the porch. Everyone gets 5 minutes and please be ready before your name is called, which reminded Jared he needed to find out who was directly before him or suffer being skipped. After the hosts set, he called up the next comedian who got a hearty welcome from the crowd. A young handsome man named Teddy Simpson. Dark haired and confident, smooth skinned with a full beard and big dimples, Jared was definitely attracted and enjoyed his set which was very good but heightened by his momentary crush. Teddy delivered like a pro who should be paid to do this, and probably is paid to do this. Jared remembered that an open mic is where people go to practice from his obsessive listening of podcasts focused on comedy. Jared and Gene both laughed heavily at his wild takes and taboo defiance. Jared was having a good time but he felt his leg twitch rapidly alerting him that he needs to go take a piss. The audience continued with uproarious laughter as his set ended as Jared got up, scooching past people in darkness to find the restroom. He headed out the doorway as he heard someone being called up as he walked upstairs to the restrooms.

Jared peed loud and hard as he had 4 cocktails and was sitting in one spot for well over an hour. He rolled his eyes in relief and enjoyed that feeling of a drunken piss. Jared wasn’t quite drunk at this point, but he needed to slow down or stop or his time on stage would not be what he needs to exact vengeance on his failure in the past. He finished, washed his hands thoroughly, and walked out of the graffiti riddled gender-neutral bathroom. He went in the “Urinal” bathroom as opposed to the “No Urinal” bathroom. He thought that was a simple but unique take on the bathroom debacle. As he exited the bathroom into the baby-bird blue halls he noticed the door leading to the deck. The weed deck as he heard it described. Figuring it would be a good place to meet some of the comics, he went on the deck expecting to make a connection.

As soon as he went on the deck, he noticed a PA system vibrating with the sound of laughter and the comedian on stage coming in clear. He saw people laughing, mocking each other, and general goofing. Jared was determined to make a connection tonight with one of these strangers he intended thoroughly to get to know well and even befriend overtime. His own social awkwardness overwhelmed his confidence and he succumbed to just standing on the deck near people. He swayed to a song stuck in his head when a woman approached him.

“Hey, wanna smoke?” — She asked. Her blue eyes gazing up at him, her long brown hair flowing in the gentle wind surrounding her angular face with a chin that could cut paper.

“Oh, um, my job drug tests but thank you” — Jared
“Like often?” — She asked
“Well, no, only if you get hurt” — Jard
“Where do you work? Is your job dangerous or something?” — She asked
“No, it’s a boring office job and-”- Jared

“Then you won’t get tested, wanna smoke?” — She stated

“Alright, I haven’t done this since college but yeah” — Jared

“Cool, I’m Jenna, and you are?” — Jenna said, lighting up a blunt, taking a deep puff and passing to Jared

“Jared” — Jared says before immediately coughing harshly after his overcompensating hit.

“Haha, oh man take smaller hits light-weight. Sorry, we smoke all the time up here. You’re fine. Going up tonight?” — Jenna

“Ha, whoa, sorry, whew!” — Jared said, catching his breath
“Yeah I’m going up tonight, first time!” — Jared

Jenna Puffed and blew out a large cloud of smoke, some of it entering Jared and ping-ponging in his lungs.

“Good luck then” — Jenna

“Thanks” — Jared said, taking a more comfortable smoke and coughing more mildly.

“We always need more straight white guys in our scene” — Jenne said, sarcastically with the make-up of the deck being obvious and apparently quite male and white.

“Well I’m actually gay, I can’t change the other things though” — Jared

“Oh Cool! When are you going up?” — Jenna asked, excitedly

“14” — Jared

“Nice, I’m 15 so I’ll be right after you so I’ll see ya.” — Jenna

“Do you know who’s 13?” — Jared

“Sorry, no, you’ll have to look at the list” — Jenna said, passing the blunt one last time as Jared puffed hard. He says thank you through a mouthful of smoke and walks back in to find out when he is, acting like a detective to find out valuable information.

As Jared walks back as the THC and alcohol combat in Jared’s system. The crossfade was hitting him hard. Jared was starting to get dizzy but still on a mission to find out the name before him. Richard The Comedian. Seriously, that’s the fucking name this piece of shit is going with? That’s the dumbest shit. Jared smirked at the name and headed back upstairs to Jenna. His mind swirling and reacting to the chemical compound flowing through him. Opening the door he saw Jenna talking to a few other comics. Jared patiently waited for them to give pause so he could once again talk with Jenna. Jared’s head swirled as he focused on a cartoon duck sticker on the decks metal boundary.

“Hey, uh..new guy, did you find out who’s before you?” — Jenna asked, breaking the focus Jared was giving to the sticker to give him ballast.
“Oh, yeah uh, Richard the Comedian” — Jared
“Tough break.” — Jenna

“Why? Is he really good or something?” — Jared
“No, ha, no no no. Crowd will be a little quiet after him, he sucks.” — Jenna said, walking back over to Jared.
Still staring at the sticker, starting to ease into the dual intoxication.
“Sorry, I’m a little drunk and now high.” — Jared
“So the sticker is talking you through this?” — Jenna laughed
“Well, it seems to be working.” — Jared said, but began to turn to Jenna to engage with her. His head swiveling and heavy as his field of view panned to her.

“I gotta, it’s noisy out here. I-” he said as he gagged like a cat with a hairball. He hunched over and let out another guttural gag.

“Shit man, here” — Jenna grabbed his arm and took him over to the trash can, parting the crowd as murmurs of concern bumbled through the crowd. Jared spit a few times and coughed, he began to stand straight up again as his head started to feel more concise and attached.
“Whew..thank you, I’m cutting myself off till I go up.” — Jared said, half-chuckling

“It’s been a while since I smoked or even drank” — Jared explained.

“There’s a couch by the bar if you need to get your head together.” — Jenna told him, “And a water dispenser thing right by the performance door with disposable cups.” — Jenna explained, patting him on the back.
“Thank you, I gotta see what number we’re on anyways and check on my friend” — Jared

“Go do that” — Jenna said as she watched Jared bound back in through the door. Jared walked back in, slightly embarrassed but ultimately better as he jogged back down the stairs, and grabbed some water from the container. He went back into the showroom which had thinned out slightly. Someone was yelling about dildos on stage as he saw Gene who was getting up to head back to the bar.

“Hey” — Gene said in a heightened whisper
“Hey” — Jared replied, parroting the tone.

They walked out of the showroom as Jared glanced at the list and saw they were on #8 with some scribbles of some names with arrows in-between the names.

“I think some people are bumping, we might be here a little longer” — Jared
“As long as it’s not too late” — Gene exclaimed as they walked over to the bar, sitting once again.

“Oh” — Jared said, expecting Gene’s continued undying support he expressed earlier that night.

“Roxy isn’t coming, she was tired and went straight home. So I may have to head out if it starts getting too late. You said you could get a lyft, right?”- Gene asked

“Yeah, yeah” — Jared sighed deflated, sipping his water.

“But our buddy Sam is here, he was looking for you but I didn’t know where you ran off to after the restroom” — Gene

“Oh cool, I’ll find him. Yeah, I went on the deck and smoked.” — Jared said, gulping a shot of water

“You don’t smoke? Wait, are you smoking again?” — Gene

“Not cigarettes, the..other thing.” — Jared
Gene laughed in shock.

“Since when do you smoke?” — Gene

“Someone offered it to me, I had a little, heh, I’m kind of high now. Coincidentally, I’m gonna take a break on the drinks.” — Jared

“Ha, okay you big stoner, I’m just gonna get one more. You sure you don’t want one?” — G

“Oh I’m sure” — Jared said, flashing back to his gagging episode on the deck. The marijuanna began to become the main intoxicating effect as the wrath of the alcohol was beginning to subside into his metabolism. A slight hunger pang shot through him but there was no food served at the bar. He saw people with chinese food from next door and mcdonald’s from further down the street. Jared was tempted but he resisted the instant gratification of junk food. His old habits could lead to over-eating that would parlay into a bulkier Jared. Leftovers of chicken, rice, and vegetables at home would satisfy him later.
“Hey guys! Crab Rangoon?” — Sam walked up excitedly, with a bag of chinese food.

“Give!” — Jared quickly grabbed the small paper bag he dangled before him previously, quickly saying fuck it to his internal promise.

“Thanks” — Jared

“No problem, you went up yet Jared?” — Sam
“No, not yet” — Jared explained in between bites of his rangoon.

“Should be about a half hour or so” — Jared explained

“Cool, well I’ll be here. I don’t think anyone else is coming or I didn’t see them. So cool that you’re going up though” — Sam

“Yeah” — Jared said, pulling out his notebook and reviewing his jokes. The words cascading on the page and looking simultaneously illegible, stupid and profound. Jared began to see them more clearly and lip-read them to himself in a hushed whisper, taking bits of the shell and rangoon to his lips.

“Man, this is really good” — Jared
“Oh yeah, I love that place. How cool is that this bar lets you bring in outdoor food?” -Sam

Jared nodded.

Pleasantries and exchanges delivered them to a table they communed to by the mirror with the poem inscribed with silver writing. Jared was engaged but noticeably in his joke book, mouthing words amongst discussion. Sam was told he had to wait to hear Jared’s jokes on stage at his requests for preview. They continued talking, Jared getting waters, Sam eating his noodles and beef, and Gene finishing his beer. Time became elapsed as they focused less on the sound of the showroom and more on the clattering cacophony of noise rumbling through-out the bar.

“Okay” — Jared said, seemingly slowing time back to regular speed.
“I need to piss” — Jared
“Good idea, don’t want a repeat” — Gene

“Repeat?” — Sam

“Heh, explain to him while I go” — Jared said, lifting from his chair and running up the stairs. The alcohol all but gone and not hindering Jared at this point, the thc resting in his bloodstream and only making him mellower at this point. Jared was embalmed in Nirvana as he urinated a heavy stream, sighing contended, thrilled to have two good friends to watch his attempted comeback. His jokes would be determined by the audience to be deemed worthy or not. Still a terrifying thought, but from the glances and rollercoaster of laughter coming from the showroom in waves and whimpers, tonight was a mixed-bag. Zipping his pants, washing his hands, and returning to the table when he saw an agitated Bill walking through-out the bar. Bill noticed Jared as he stepped off the staircase.

“Hey buddy, you ready to go up?” — Bill asked

“What? I thought I had a bit more time and-” — Jared
“Yeah, there’s some people not here tonight. Anyways, the guy on stage just started so you still have 5 minutes. You wanna go up or wait a bit or…?” — Bill asked pensively.

“Uh, sure, sure yeah.” — Jared
“You sure? You don’t sound sure?” — Bill

“Yeah I mean, I gotta do it. Yeah, I’ll be ready.” — Jared
“Cool man, just picture the audience jerking off” — Bill

Jared chuckled, as the nerves returned to him. His bladder empty though as he went over to the table to wave them into the showroom. His friends quickly found seats a row behind the front, the crowd still large but spaced apart. Jared stood off to the side to walk on stage past the performer inbetwixt the chairs lining the walls and the floor. Abstract artwork and political artwork, all left-leaning, hung on the walls distracting Jared as he fumbled through his last minute attempts to see his jokes in the dark. His leg began to twitch and tab gently on the floor from anxiety as the performer felt deafened to him. The performer got smatherings of polite laughter and Jared couldn’t make out what he was saying, both from the lack of context and his own self-obsessed moment.

“Thank you, I’m Richard The Comic.” the comic exclaimed, walking off stage to a light drizzle of applause.

“Alright, give it up for Richard The Comic! Coming up next we have a first timer. Please make him feel welcome and don’t be too harsh unless he deserves it, give it up for Jared Schuman!”

Jared walked on stage and greeted the audience, his nervous energy still allowed him to speak however as his confidence began to take hold. He smiled at his friends who despite not sitting in the front row, were an inviting presence. He realized he hadn’t said anything in a bit, so he began to go into his act. He was laden with pregnant pauses, murmurs and gulps. Upon saying his reworked erectile dysfunction joke near perfectly, he was met with a moderate dose of laughter. Finally, he already had done better on stage than he did 8 years ago. He checked his pants and even made a reference to the tale of Stanford’s. More laughter grew from the audience, quite a surprise to Jared as this wasn’t part of his script, he was just telling a story about his soaked khakis and the embarrassment that followed. He was being vulnerable and honest, which was a major tribute to the hours of podcast he had devoted time to. Later he intermingled in jokes about his dead dog, his republican Dad, and street signs. Some hit, some did not. As he told his gay joke minus the ‘fag’ part, he got a groan as the joke was still disconcerting. Quickly he explained that he was gay which helped the crowd get back on his side. He called himself a ‘gay fag’ which received a combination groan and laughter, much of the laughter coming from the back with a steel drum cadence. He was shocked to see the light, realizing he had a minute left. Jared embraced the moment but didn’t want to ruin his standing

“I’m Jared Schuman, thanks for your time.” He said, hopping off stage to acceptable applause.

Jared was elated, thrilled, and relieved. He sat with his friends who shook his hand and gave congratulations in hushed tones.

“Give it up for Jared Schuman, that was his first time. Keep coming back, like AA buddy. Alright, we have a real treat for you next. Fabulous lady, Jenna Springs.” — Bill exclaimed.

As Jared basked in the glow, he focused his vision on Jenna who quickly gave praise and elicited a second round of applause, before roasting Jared on his street sign joke that fell flat. She spun it to be much funnier than what Jared had written, and he was not dismayed by this, but rather felt welcomed and encouraged. Jenna then quickly ripped into Bill who called her a ‘fabulous lady’ stating that she just called a comedian. She made fun of Bill’s antiquated intro and then dived into her set. Porn, bisexuality, cats, and a profane laced tirade against Joe Rogan which met with agreeing laughs and a single, audible boo from the back.

“Oh go fuck him then” She retorted. She was masterful in her craft and revealed her years on stage easily on her sleeve. She ended to big applause as Jared left with his friends as he attempted to talk to her about their sets.

“Hey Jenna, that was fucking great.” — Jared expressed

“Eh” — Jenna replied

“What? It was.” — Jared

“Well thanks, I was a little off tonight.” — Jenna

“You still did..that was amazing.” — Jared

“Heh, cute. But I mean, thank you. YOU though. Buddy, I’ve seen a lot of first timers and you did a good job, man.” — Jenna told him, 100% in her words.

“Eh, I didn’t do that great.” — Jared

“Motherfucker, that was your first time and you actually got laughs and were on the ball. You weren’t perfect but no one is. I hope to see you around more.” — Jenna smiled

Jared beamed from ear to ear as other comedians asked if he was the new guy, and gifted him “good job man” and the like. An excitable elderly man came up and simply said “Wow”.

“That, that..you’re lying, you’ve done this before. That was wonderful!” — Old Man

Jared laughed at the juxtaposition of this old man at this hip bar past 11 but enjoyed his affirmations.

“Thanks man, okay, technically I performed once 8 years ago.” — Jared said as the old man chuckled at the story he told on stage.
“I know, but it seems like you probably performed more after that. You were a natural tonight, keep coming back.” — Old Man

“Are you a comic?” — Jared questioned

“Yeah, just a silly old man. I’m Donald Smith by the way.” — Donald

“Thanks man, um, do you know where other mics are?” — Jared

“Join the KC Comedians Page on Facebook if you have it, they have all the info.” — Donald earnestly explained.

“Ready to go?” — Gene pecked at his shoulder

Jared sighed at the prospect that he had to leave. It was about 11:20 now and he wanted to be up and ready for work. He’ll join the page and get all the info he needs, continuing his depths into the comedic abyss.

“Thanks Donald, I gotta go.” — Jared

“I’m heading out too, it’s way past my bedtime” — Donald

Jared and Gene closed out their tabs, tipping heavily to the bartender who saw them off as they walked out the door. Jared walked out into the street-lit beamed blanketed black sky, still receiving gratification from Gene who was impressed. Gene went over Jared’s bits with him and gave him advice on rewording a few of the jokes. They both thoroughly enjoyed the night, a different atmosphere than watching whatever mindless dreck on Netflix until they slumber. Jared’s hyperactivity lessened as he settled down, unlocking the door to his house, not even fully aware of the gap in time construed by being in his own head the whole ride back. Jared undressed to his underwear and undershirt, and laid in bed, exhausted but restless. He drifted off to sleep, waking up at 3:30 a.m to go piss. He grabbed the glass from the kitchen, took it back into the bathroom, and filled it once again. He drank the glass in two heavy gulps, clinged it on the marble once again, and stared himself in the mirror.

“I did it” Jared self-proclaimed

Perhaps it was just a redemption and respect he was after, but Jared became fulfilled by this one gesture. He suddenly didn’t feel the need to go again to an open mic. Perhaps it was imposter syndrome or something else. In a way, he did what he set out to do, and that’s all he needs. Probably.