Y
ears ago, as it was getting closer
to my comedy debut which was a graduation show at Caroline's, I was almost
sorry I had invited all the job people from both of the jobs I held at that
time. Since it was my debut, many were coming as a show of support. That was wonderful. However, I knew a good number of them were not
the nightlife type. Many are of a
different mindset. At work, no one ever
uttered the word "pussy" and certainly not the phrase "licking
pussy." And at work, there is no
reason to use that language. I would look
at supervisory people as the date got closer, and my brain was yelling what
did I do??!!!
"Listen, please keep in mind
that the comedy is dirty, and you never heard me use the language I use in my
comedy," I said one day in a pleading tone to one of the administrators.
"We are all adults," I was
assured.
Oh Lord. My brain screamed, you are not the kind who
talk about body piercings, getting fucked, living under someone's foot; you are
rarely the kind who laughs at something funny because you look around first to
see if it's okay, if others are laughing. You are too
concerned with being "politically correct." You are
not the kind who approves of me, and this isn't going to help. I don't even know why I invited you. I must be
nuts for doing that. Most other people I know would keep these worlds very
separate.
There are some individuals who I
believed would enjoy it very much. I wanted to invite them. Then I thought it
would innocently get out to those not invited and would lead to hurt feelings.
Everyone there would believe they could handle whatever took place at a comedy
show. My gut was screaming they have no idea.
For those readers who do not know me
or my comedy, I enjoy the freedom to use the language as effectively as I know
how without censorship. However, please do not confuse that with mean. I have no desire to further hurt oppressed
people. I do not expect women or gays or
people without much money or people of all different nationalities to enjoy
being put down for existing. I don't
enjoy that. If my stuff doesn't make me
laugh, it isn't part of my routine. I do
shed light on behaviors of oppressive people. That might make some uncomfortable, but those
are growing pains. Becoming aware that one acts like an asshole is
uncomfortable, but not letting one know s/he is standing on your neck isn't a
solution. What I anticipated would make some of the job people uncomfortable
would be the language and the references to body parts. Those who could hear past “pierced pussy lip”
would be able to hear the deeper message in my music.
From the back of the room, I saw the
job people barely laughing. Worse than that, a couple of them weren't even
looking at the comics. I could not
understand that considering they came to the show and it was costing them
rip-off prices. But most were looking and just not amused. The host was good as far as I was concerned. I watched the earlier show where he received
much laughter. The later show was the one I was in, and he was doing the same
material but working harder at it and it wasn't getting nearly as much laughs. Now I was worried that my set wouldn’t go over
well either. I wondered if my
non-laughing job people were setting the tone. Then the host said that it was good of the
audience to come to support their family and friends. He said something about hoping they (the new
performers) get it out of their system. That
was when the job people laughed. I was
sorry to learn that was how they felt, but that would not determine how or if I
would proceed with this comedy thing.
There were also guests of mine from
other parts of my life. My best friend
was there, and I loved that. Our worlds
are sometimes merged, and that is fine with us.
We thrive on the closeness and love. Some were people who also were doing stand-up
since years before I began. Some were
friends, some were poetry friends, and there were a few adult students with
their spouses. My miserable husband at
the time was there. Even he couldn't
ruin it for me. Inside myself, I was
prepared. If he acted fucked up, he was much
outnumbered. It would be easy for me to
see it was his problem. It would make the upcoming separation easier
on me. I’d get another look at what I’d
be free from soon. The crazy thing was
he paid for the comedy class as a gift. He
would do things like that from time to time because his image of himself was
that of a man who was supportive of a free-spirited woman who had a creative
life and was not oppressed. His true
self was far from that. Since we have
been apart, whenever he tells me he is losing his mind, I am tempted to tell
him to get acquainted with it before losing it. He was going to hear my take on the human
species evolving past marriage. He
wouldn't be able to interrupt me, cut me off, speak over me, belittle me, or
any of the other charming husbandly things he was in the habit of doing. And if all went right, he'd hear people liking
my stuff and showing it.
I was so terribly nervous because it
was my debut. I decided I would not look
at the table of job people. My heart was
pounding so hard when I went up that I thought it could be heard over the mic.
Ignore those non-laughing people. I don't even understand why they came if they
aren't going to even look at the performers trying to do this comedy thing in
front of roughly 200 people for the first time. I thought you said we were all adults. Now try for adults who look at the person on
stage. Of course, it was just two of them acting like
that but those two were who were stuck in my head.
My set went excellently. It went beyond what I expected or imagined. There were what I’ve come to learn are called
laugh and applause breaks. It was so deeply
thrilling. Exhilarating. After talking about how a man would fuck a
woman in the ear and brag about having fucked her brains out, the place was
roaring. When I did the guy bragging, I grabbed my "dick." So in response to the laughter, I said, off
the cuff, "Yeah, I know how you think." That sent the one who wouldn't look up into
laughter, real laughter that had his back in motion, laughing he didn't get
permission to do. Then I saw his partner
give him the look of shock and disapproval. I guess they were getting to know their spouse
in ways that even surprised them. They
both cut out after my set like they couldn't leave fast enough. I imagine she gave him a hard time and he
regretted coming to the show. (As I write this, I am single and oh so fucking
glad.)
The oldest of the job people, a fun
woman in her 70s at the time, came over to me right after the show and said,
"Don't say I said it but my advice is be as outrageous as you can, and
don't care what anybody thinks!" Coming
from a woman in her 70s made it even more potent. Who better would know that there is no prize
for holding back things that need to be voiced?
A woman came over to me who I didn't
know and told me that I had what it takes and she hopes I was going to
continue. A young woman at a table said,
"Miss, you were right about the pussy." I cracked up at such a line being
said to me by a stranger and so very sincerely. Two young pretty women, who I didn't know but
were guests of a classmate, each took an arm of mine and told me how they have
no piercings "down there." I was
hysterical laughing. My student, who
brought her husband and a friend, loved my set and said, "You didn't just
make people laugh. You really had them thinking. I saw."
I stood outside with friends, many
classmates, and some of their guests. People
were coming over to me and saying, "You were great."
"Excellent." "You killed." "I like your
earlobes." "Fantastic." My then-husband said, "You were
okay." I laughed at the stark contrast. My friend Judy gasped. Husband looked confused and, with a
nose-wrinkling facial expression, asked me what that was about. I started to explain and said, "People
were telling me how great and fantastic I was, and then you said I was
okay." "You were okay," he repeated. I smiled. Pretty soon, you will be my ex-husband.
That's gonna be better than okay.
"Okay, I heard you. I was okay." He must have felt frustrated. I made fun of marriage and spoke of pussy and
got an amazing response from the audience, and now, possibly the hardest part
for him and a huge achievement for me, his shit wasn't making me sad. It was helping remove mixed feelings and
reinforcing my decision. I was smiling. I was going out with friends afterwards who
were actually excited for me. It was a
glimpse into my next and healthiest chapter of my life so far.
The one at my job, who assured me
that we were all adults, never mentioned the show. I may have traumatized him. Yeah, worlds collided, as George Costanza said
on Seinfeld. My worlds’ coming
together wasn’t a bad thing really. I
prefer to be myself wherever I am. I
believe, in the end, it was more problematic for those whose wall separating
their public and private selves crumbled.
Mindy Matijasevic
