Fulfilling My Purpose in Life

Ever since I can remember, I felt that my ultimate purpose was to make people laugh. I would walk into the kitchen borderline demanding my mother to listen to this two-bit joke I heard on t.v. earlier that afternoon. Naturally, she was too busy taking care of all of us and making our dinner for that evening, but did that stop me? Of course not! 

I would run around in circles around her and say, “Mommy, let me tell you a joke! Let me tell you a joke mommy!” Every time this would happen, she would let out a sigh but then act like I was the most important being on the planet (hence where my inflated ego stems from). She would stop whatever she was doing, and all attention was posed to me - the star of the show. 

Even if my joke bombed, which it just about always did - mostly because I didn’t understand the concept of “punchline timing” back then, she would always smile and say, “You’re going to be famous one-day kiddo.” I pretty much took those eight words to heart till this day. Today, it’s a much different story though. 

I don’t have people who typically believe in me, or show it as vulnerable as she did. I’m lucky if I get a “Good set tonight Drew!” because mostly it’s “Hey! Get off the stage - I saved the best act for last after you!” There’s a punch in the gut if I’ve ever heard one. It’s not that I expected people to fall at my feet or anything. It’s just that I didn’t quite expect this. I didn’t think I would have to compete against fellow comedians quite so vigorously. I figured it was all about our own sets and routines - not so much what set us apart from other people.

Most comedians around my age in their 20’s knew someone or got into this business in the first place because they knew someone. They definitely weren’t used to meeting a kid like me who didn’t know anyone and also wasn’t afraid to say how it was, really. Most comedians stick with material that is honest, yes, but more so in a funny way - a way that will relate to the audience. I just didn’t see the appeal to it. It was all too similar to the same routine the comic before them spit out.

I wanted to be different. I wanted to create routines that were so “out there” in nature that nobody had ever seen a performance like this, and therefore the appeal was out there before the audience had even heard the wording. It was genius and I knew it. Unfortunately, not everyone else thought so. They thought it was too mainstream. Too edgy for the audience to comprehend it. 

I would go to comedy club after comedy club and no luck. I would pitch the ideas to the manager and would just get blank stares. “That material will not go well with our audience, kid,” they would say. I don’t know what was worse - not being believed in, or being called a kid, and not in an enduring sense. My mother would tell me about people like this - stuck in their own adult lives - but not actually enjoying living. They are the types to stomp ideas into the ground and ask questions later, if at all. They don’t believe in creativity, real creativity, not the carbon copies of ideas that have been told over and over again. If it’s different then it’s bad and shouldn’t become reality.

I wanted to prove these nay-sayers wrong. I had to. But how was I going to do that when they wouldn’t give me a shot? I formulated a plan, but had to work fast. This outcome was going to change and I would do anything to make it to the big time. I went to a tuxedo shop down the street from my apartment and gathered some supplies from the party store. This had to work, it just had to.

Later that night, I was ready. I dressed for the part in my Indochino suit as it was the one I could afford at the time and strolled down to Mackey’s Comedy Club where I was denied a spot. Looking around, I noticed that everyone had already gone inside where a set was beginning. There were a couple of security guards at the door, but they were paying attention to the comic on stage. I could actually do this.

I looked once more and sprinted to the side entrance where the door was left ajar for the caterers to come through for the comics hanging out backstage. What luck! I managed to barely slip through without anyone noticing. There was a fellow eating a sandwich but he didn’t seem to care. I bet he was just one of the caterers. I followed the route to where the stage was, and waited. The comic performance was just finishing up and had the majority of the audience laughing like it was the first time in months. He followed up with “You’ve been an amazing audience! Good night!” 

This was it. It was now or never and I chose now. Right as the comic was exiting the stage on the other side, I ran out onto the stage. The overhead lights were blazing onto me as I peered out into the audience. From this angle, I couldn’t see anyone. They were all blinded into a mush of white lighting but I could hear some of them cough and clear their throats from laughter. I looked over and saw the manager looking from me down to his clipboard and back to me when a look that said he knew I was in the wrong place. I had to work fast. 

I instantly started bobbing back and forth and singing a tune in my head - starting out slow, but then getting louder with each verse. The manager looked perplexed, but looked more relaxed like he wanted to see where this was going. This wasn’t the typical get up and tell jokes on stage. There wasn’t even a word for what I was doing. In the middle of the song, I grabbed some confetti out of my jacket pockets and threw it at the audience who screamed in delight. 

Finishing the song, I knew I had them hooked and invited the audience to join in the verses. They obliged and soon enough, they were on their feet and clapping along to the rhythm of the lyrical beat. I sensed it, they loved it, and even more importantly - the manager did as well. He sat there with a perplexed look on his face, but then right at the end, he smiled a wide tooth-grinned smile. He finally saw it.

I know everybody has to “go through the motions” when they first start out, but I was so grateful for that chance to show everyone what I was all about. Now, it’s amazing if a show doesn’t sell out within the first hour of its announcement. If it wasn’t for that one show - I wouldn’t be here today doing what I do best - make people laugh.