Standing up for herself

Standing Up for Herself

The greasy dark dish water was draining out slowly and while she waited, focused on the usual sounds coming in from the dining room, it was a hot August day so the doors and window were all open. Wiping her hands on a clean cloth nearby she turned to ask the chef if there were any more tasks, it was legitimately the end of her shift but she didn’t want him thinking she was a clock watcher.

At his head shaking and quick reminder of the next weeks hours, she said her goodbyes to the servers and prep cooks in the kitchen. Her ride wasn’t due up the hill for another half hour, she didn’t have her own car so she car pooled with one of the bar tenders from the pub.

Grabbing her purse, she sidled out the back door and towards the staff smoking porch. She didn’t smoke herself, but it was a good place to look at the view and get some shade. The resort sat right in Silva Bay, which itself was on the southern tip of Gabriola Island. As one of the Gulf Islands it had a large influx of tourists in the summer. There was a marina, boat repair building and sea plane dock here so folks with their own boats didn’t need to depend on the ferry from Nanaimo to explore the scenery.

She found Nathan outside on his own, he did a couple of jobs around the resort but mostly acted as the cook down in the pub. It was mid August, many of the ‘ Year-Round Residents’ were of mixed minds regarding the tourists. They all depended on them for work and tips, but that didn’t mean they were missed in the fall. Starting in September there was almost a collective exhalation, Islanders had our roads back, you could actually find a table in the pub, and the place just settled. She and her hubby hadn’t been here for that long, moving here ten years ago this summer actually, but she felt they’d been accepted.

When she and Nate talked desultorily about the end of the season and plans for the fall it led to a conversation about hobbies and dreams. He was looking forward to some music gigs at the island pubs, she didn’t know yet what the next few months would bring. There was no guarantee of hours in the off season and personally she’d rather work somewhere closer to her little house on Whalebone. When the topic of ambitions and things they’d always wanted to do arose, she mentioned a long ago bet with a friend. Her friend Wayne had wagered that she’d never be able to do stand up comedy despite her quick sense of humour.

“Is that what you’d like to do?” Nate asked. She nodded and said she’d at least like to try it, just to see if she could. She wasn’t sure what made her so brave all of sudden, but it was out there now.

“Why don’t you ask Tony in the Oyster Bar, he has small groups play on the weekends. I’m playing there in two weeks with Bev and Joseph, you could open for us if you can get some material together. Why don’t we go in now and ask him?”

She nodded and followed him through the doors, blinking from the shift of sunshine to dark bar. After a quick chat it was decided on a five-minute set before the trio came on, she’d have to keep it mostly clean, and there was a drink on the house after her set. She smiled and set out to the parking lot after shaking hands with both men.

The big night came and she was nervous but realized that even if no one laughed, or even showed up it was a dare that she’d meet face-on. Sitting on a stool and waiting for her introduction she held on to her written bits so tight they were starting to wrinkle and dampen with anticipatory sweat.

As the tables filled, her stomach tightened. She was glad now that she’d turned down the offer of hot cheesy oysters from the server. The kitchen staff she knew started to emerge from the back and some good friends from her slow pitch team filed into the restaurant, smiling, and giving her thumbs up.

Tony made his way to the stage and used his hands to hush the crowd noise. At about five hundred square feet, the Oyster Bar didn’t have room for many seats but those were all taken. She knew most were here for Nate and his friends but it had been daunting to watch everyone sit down.

“Hello folks, thanks for coming out to see the band, before they start we have a treat for you. Our own staff member Maureen is here to make you laugh. Please put your hands together and welcome her out of the kitchen and onto the stage.”

He walked towards her and gave her a quick squeeze as she stood on shaky knees. Her friends all whistled loudly and shouted encouragement as she plucked the microphone from it’s stand. Her legs were jelly, and her voice a bit hoarse as it made it’s way through the speakers nearby. Smoothing the notes against the black metal music stand to her left she launched into some pieces she’d worked on over the previous half month.

Her material was clean, and mostly observational. She mused about what would happen when the CBC’s Friendly Giant had to move from the castle. Where would the three musical kittens go? On tour maybe. Would the zoo take the giraffe back? What about the reading rooster? He was already in a bag so perhaps a tragic meeting with a box of shake and bake? That material received some appreciative laughs, hearty guffaws, and some tittering, it made her heart and ego swell  to know that she’d made strangers chuckle at something her brain thought up.

Later as she sat at the bar, talking to her friends, and sipping her complimentary glass of wine, she reflected on the gig. She doubted it was the full five minutes but it seemed longer to her. She’d grown up in a family that liked to laugh and encouraged humour. It had stood her in good stead through many stressful and tense situations even if she didn’t share the observations with others.

Tony pat her on the back and while the band was setting up he told her she should have come in sooner as this was the last weekend they’d be hosting acts. She thanked him for the support and opportunity then left with her friends to a pub on the other side of the island to celebrate. The next night, when she talked to her husband on the phone from camp, she relayed her moderate success. It was hard to tell what he really thought, but when he asked if she’d do it again she told him she was open to the opportunity.

Throughout the fall, she had a few more gigs. Her friend Linda served as her manager and booking agent, two terms the friends had to laugh at. So far she hadn’t left the island and Linda’s percentage amounted to a free drink if they were lucky. The highest level of gig was at the pub she worked at now.

The White Hart Pub was hosting a Canadian stand-up comedian in the middle of October and her friend Ron, who owned the bar had asked her if she wanted to open for the guy. She was honoured. She’d seen him on television and knew his stuff. Before the show he took the time to sign a coaster for her and talk about comedy in general.

The crowd at this bar were all locals and people she’d served nachos to or played darts against. Her opening was less time than at the oyster bar but she was appreciative of the opportunity. She couldn’t know it tonight, but years later when this fellow had his own Canadian sitcom, she’d remember how kind he was to her that night.

Her husband was back from camp and their marriage was showing signs of fraying at the edges. He was away so often and she was young and social. They’d not had any children, just a dog and some cats. She was working long hours at two jobs while he sat at home and played video games. They were so young in their maturity level as a couple and the realization was trickling through their relationship. He wasn’t happy about her recent announcement that Linda had booked her another opening gig in a large Victoria Hotel.

He surmised that she was off to cheat on him and despite her repeated protests, he made some awful comments that she never could shake off her soul. She and Linda caught a train down to the capitol city and checked into their shared room at a nearby motel. They’d passed the hat at a gathering recently so couldn’t stretch to much more than the transport for themselves. The venue was massive and her heart was beating so loud she could have sworn the hundreds of patrons could hear the thrumming. Her best friend from Powell River was living in the city at the time, so she drove over to see the show too.

She did five minutes that went fairly well, though she realized that writing the material was much easier than performing it. The main act was a man who had several wigs, music, and an hour of material. If she was feeling amateurish before, it was a reality slap afterwards. He was amazingly supportive with her afterwards. He took her aside and gave her some tips on use of the microphone, how to work the material from what looks like notes into a prop, like a newspaper. They parted on good terms and he reminded her that every comic she sees, either in person or on T.V. has gone through all the same insecurities as she has. It came down, he said, to how bad do you want it?

This thought kept coming back to her on the train home and she revealed her ‘retirement plan’ to Linda when they stepped off the train in Nanaimo. It had been a fun few months and she’d done something she knew many people wouldn’t have the nerve to do. She’d fulfilled her part of the dare and was eager to contact her friend Wayne and let him know she had more guts than he’d given her credit for.

PS.

*A mere six months later she was back living in her home town. Her marriage had broken down in the end and she couldn’t see herself staying on the island. She did stand up in Powell River a few times, but the spark had gone, and while she continued to make people laugh, she never did it on stage again*.