Calvin The Comic

Calvin The Comic

A bead of sweat dripped from Calvin Hoopers brow. He was filled with the exhilaration of the audience on the other side of the door. Soon it would be his turn, he could hear the people laugh at the comic that was on stage now. Open Mike at the “Trollies Tavern”, always the highlight of Calvins dull week. Not much excitement as a gas attendant. Mundane was the existence of the gas jockey. , It was when he discovered the comedy open mike at “Trollies”, that a spark was once again lit in him.  To laugh, free and simple to do, but to truly Calvin had taken the job as a bridge to something better, that bridge seemed to go nowhere. 

 Now five years later still pumping gas making little enough to rent his little room to laugh from the belly free from the strife of life. He was free, observing the comedy acts at first. The bravery it took he felt to get up on a stage in front of strangers, and with only your wits make them laugh. 

Days were spent designing jokes in his head. Lost in a comedic fog Calvin tried to see the humor in everything. But to tell someone a joke of his. To cross the line of sharing the comedy that was brimming within. As the truth be told Calvin was a very shy individual, always had been. His mother would say he was so timid that even the mice were not wary of him.

Timid one-line jokes came across lame with no comedic emphasis put into it. Still every open mike he was there studying the comics. Later he would go home mimic them to himself in the mirror. Alone in his room he was not timid, he would tell funny stories to himself about various aspects of life. He would make funny faces to accompany punchlines and practiced the art of body language. 

This went on for months Calvin was a student of humor yet could not find his voice. It was a cool autumn day, Calvin was sitting in his booth thinking of a good ending to a joke about an Eskimo and chopsticks when a red Audi convertible pulled up to the pump. Calvin walked over to the car and was taken back by how beautiful the driver was. She looked at him with her olive-green eyes and with just a hint of sultriness said, “Fill me up, premium.”

Calvin quickly set about the task of fueling the car when he heard her say,” You go to Trollies on open mike nights don’t you?” A little surprised Calvin turned to look at her and with all the will he had muttered the reply, “Ah, Ah yeah, I like to laugh.” Feeling like an idiot knowing he could have said something better, he was surprised when she gave him a big smile and said “Yeah, I like it when you laugh at my jokes.”

Just then Calvin recognized her as one of the regulars on comedy night. She was one of the funnier women, her humor matched her beauty. Shyly Calvin asks “How do you do it? Get up on the stage I mean.” She studied him for a moment then replied “Life is hard, Laughter heals people if I can make a few people laugh, make them happier well then it’s my duty.”  The pump clicked off and Calvin took the nozzle and closed up her gas cap.

As she handed him the money she said “Sign-ups are at 7, I hope to see you on the other side of the stage this week. All you have to do is make one person laugh and you’ve done something.” The engine roared to life and with a wave and a smile, she was gone. Calvin went back to his booth and thought about it. If he could make one person laugh he had done something. 

On his way home that night he stopped at the local thrift store. In the back they had men’s suits, selecting a brown tweed suit with smokers cuffs. If he was going to perform before the people he had to establish a look. When he went home and looked at himself in the mirror, it was a different Calvin looking back, was that a hint of confidence in his eyes. For hours he practiced in the mirror. “If I can make one person laugh I have done something.” 

The day arrived and Calvin could feel a tightness in his chest that only grew stronger the closer it got to performance time. All day at work he went over material, mentally picturing himself presenting the jokes to a crowd of strangers. Would they laugh? Or would they boo him off stage the duality of the situations that could occur terrified Calvin. 

When he got home he put his suit on and looked at himself. “I will make someone laugh tonight.” He went over his routine one last time to himself. Over and over in his head, as he walked to the club, “I will make someone laugh.” It seemed as if this mantra not only calmed his inner fear of people but fed a larger need to interact with them, make them laugh.

He entered the bar and walked over to the sign-in table. A fat bald man was collecting the registration fee, it cost ten dollars to get on the stage, Ten dollars seemed like a small sum to the years of introversion Calvin had endured. He paid the man and was directed to a door in the back if any preparations for your act needed to be made. 

The din of the crowd sent an electric tingle down Calvin’s back. He went to the door in the back and entered the stage room. There were about fifteen people milling about. Off to the left was the sexy Audi driver. Calvin made his way over to her and her mesmerizing smile encompassed her face when she saw him. 

“Glad to see you on this side of the stage,” she said with genuine enthusiasm. “I’m here to make someone laugh tonight,” Calvin said with triumph in his voice. She burst out in laughter and said “Honey you and that suite already did.” A smile crept across Calvin’s face. “Maybe after the show, you and I could have a drink and talk shop,” he didn’t know where this courage was coming from. 

She looked at him intently with her exotic green eyes and said “Sure, I would like that but what do I call you?” “Calvin the comic”, he said with a chuckle. “Calvin the comic,  I like that.” A gruff voice yelled “Sally, your next.”  “That’s me,” she said getting up. “Good Luck tonight Calvin, cant wait to hear your material.” Leaving a hint of her perfume in her absence, Calvin couldn’t believe the turn his life had taken.      

He listened to the laughter it fed something inside him he never felt before. The tightness was still in his chest but so to was excitement, no more was the fear of the crowd there, replaced now by a yearning to entertain the people. “Calvin, your on in five.” Taking a deep breath and looking at himself in the mirror he was not Calvin anymore, he was “Calvin the Comic”.

THE END