​If I could wave my comedy wand and change one thing about stand up comedy it would be what's called Papering The Room. It's when the venue, comics, or producer gives away free tickets to make the show appear more popular than it really is. Papering the room is also known as "comps" or "guest lists" and many comics are so used to giving away their material and shows for free that when they do something of value, they have no idea how to sell themselves.

Their friends are so used to watching a terrible show that the idea of paying at that point sounds like a scam, especially if they bought tickets to a bad bringer show made up of washed up 90's stars, the producer doing 40 minutes, and a rotation of amateurs no one would pay to see in real life. So let's talk about what you can do to help yourself and let's not worry about your friends seeing you for free anytime again. 

Why Do Comics Like Comps and Why Do Venues Use Them?
Excuse me, if I come off as condescending in these next couple paragraphs, but there are a few truths that have to be acknowledged. First, venues like comps because they follow the wrong logic that food and drink will cover the cost of labor and rent. When in fact, that's not really true. After working for and with multiple clubs, I can tell you that papering the room and relying on food and drink sales only leads to underpaid comics and owners questioning the business model. 

Whether big name stars take 100% of the door, or the venue is comping the room, the end result is the same. If people order little to no food, even if the venue ends up having a full room, they still have an empty bank account. The illusion of a full room might create a better experience for the audience and comic, but it's not a real reflection of success. But that doesn't stop broken business models from moving forward. When you see a comedy venue with a two item minimum and papered rooms, just know that money food money has to pay employees, cooks, rent, utilities, venue repairs, lights, sound, etc. When 50 people show up to the comped shows, then that's maybe $3,000 for the night, if lucky. Payroll for a club could run $1,500 a night. And the comics still haven't gotten a dime.

The Math doesn't lie. Now had they gotten 25 paid customers, they might have made more money because they would have gotten a higher cliental with a better food and drink budget instead of 50 broke people getting a free show. And the ticket money could have been split among the comics.  

Comics love the comp list because they feel more people will show up and they'll get a better crowd. Nothing could be further from the truth. Free tickets mean people who don't want to invest in their own pleasure. When I started hitting the road, the pop (crowd response) from the people in paying venues was wild. When I did shows where the first show was paid guests and the late show was comped guests, I can feel the difference walking on stage. 15 paid guests to way better that 75 tired broke people. 

Comics also like bragging they can get their friends in for free. As if they know their show will suck but at least I can make the experience more tolerable by covering your costs. This defeatist attitude holds back your progress. After the first couple of free bar shows, tell anyone who wants to see you to buy a damn ticket.

In fact, when I meet people on the street and someone blurts out that I'm a comic (sometimes I'm the blurter) they ask me to tell them a joke, I say "that's a two drink minimum." They laugh and add me on IG if they're interested. Now, if it's a "she" asking and she's cute, I say, ""That's a two drink minimum, but for you, you have to let me buy you the drinks over dinner." One day I'm sure that line will work.

My point is, the comping, the guest listing, the getting them in for free just keeps you on the amateur level. When I was in high school, my dad tried to get in free to see me wrestle. It was embarrassing. Adults can pay to get in. If all your friends are too broke...maybe find better friends. I'm kidding (not kidding). Hell, I had 18 year old graduates from my high teaching days buying tickets in my first few years. Your 25 year old friends can pay too. Nothing is sadder than a friend asking for a handout.        
Bringing a bunch of free people doesn't make anything better. About three years in, I started telling people to buy tickets, and it completely weeded out the hanger-on's and freeloaders. My ego isn't stroked by friends showing up. My ego is stroked by making the crowd in front of me laugh.       

Why Guest Lists and Papering the Room Are Hurting Comedy More than Helping It
Everything you like in life, you pay for. Netflix, food, amusement parks, movies, the gym, etc. has a cost. Either you or somebody associated with you is paying for it. Try calling Netflix and asking them if you can have the service for free? They'll laugh at you. Tell the people at Buffalo Wild Wings you'd like to pay in good vibes. They'll kick you out. We have an expression "you get what you pay for" because we inherently attach value to the cost of things we want. In fact, paying for an item or experience can increase the enjoyment of the experience dramatically. Trust me, paying a fortune for a concert forces people to enjoy it way more than they probably would had they paid nothing. Did anyone really have fun sitting in the nosebleed section of stadiums for games or Taylor Swift? No. But that ticket price makes you feel like you invested in your own fun.  

Part of the problem with stand up is that a lot of terrible comics are able to give away their comedy for free to (current) friends, taking spots away from quality comics. The bringer or guest list model rewards mediocre talent, punishes stronger talent who don't have the same social safety nets, and then drives the comics out who realize in a few years their friends can't finance they dreams of performing 5 minutes at a time by driving to all their shows.

But greedy producers with no idea how to properly promote can survive the LA comedy scene on the backs of comics who confuse their friend's generosity for success. The true mark for success isn't how many friends give up their night to see a show; it's how many bookers ask you to perform without asking you to bring. If you go to an audition or DM a booker and their first question is about bringing or promoting - run! 

It's why I only book comics I like working with. Very early on, I booked a few questionable comics because they promised to fill the seats, only to find out they're liars or they become entitled after. But one thing I never do is paper the room. When I ran the Comedy School I would charge $5 tickets, as I felt that was a fair price. People agreed. Eventually I moved it to $10 because we were selling out. We sold out every Level 1 showcase and most Level 2 shows. The club's regular shows in the other room would have 100 comps on record in the other room but ONLY 12 would show up. It's a broken model. 

To double down on my philosophy, I would then sprinkle advance students into the Level 1 and Level 2 showcases and tell them to bring no one unless it was a potential commercial agent. Part of the training was learning to focus on the standup in front of you and not caring if your co-workers came.  

Papering the Room Devalues Your Comedy 
When a show has no monetary value required to see it, it means that the comics on the show have no monetary value attached to them. Wanna be a professional comic? Then charge money to see your shows and collect the money and get paid. It's really that simple. Jim Gaffigan isn't a millionaire because he's funny. He's a millionaire because he's funny AND people pay to se him. When you tell people your act isn't worth paying for, you're saying to people your act isn't a professional act. Bragging to a producer you can get 5-10 people out as long as no one has to pay is not a real brag. 
Here's a little hack. If there's a show you're doing and there are comp links and a paid link, only send your friends the pay link. This will do many things that feel counter intuitive at first but will help you down the line.      

• First, people will associate value with your comedy. 
• Second, people will be more committed to attending your shows.
• Third, if you sell tickets, you can start figuring out if it's time to run your own shows and keep the box office.
• Fourth, you will start marketing more efficiently, attracting a higher quality audience. 
• Fifthly, other comics will see your value and right or wrong attach a higher quality to your act because it comes at a price.     

Creating a brand that demands value and commitment is the goal.  

Don't Do Any Bringer Shows - Ever 
One quick fix to stop papering the room is to never do bringers. Yes, I understand you get to perform at The Ice House or The Comedy Store, but those are false realities. Even if they make your friends pay, it's not a real show. Sometimes when the producer papers the room the producer gets a dollar amount anyway, so you're paying their bills instead of yours. 

It would be better to do open mics and connect with comics who you build relationships with, start your own shows with a $10-$25 ticket price, or work with venues (bars, restaurants, etc.) that have entertainment budgets and need comedy on certain nights of the week and pay you for bringing in or retaining business. 

I'm not even a fan of doing bringer shows as the non-bringer guest comic. It just supports the mistreatment of comics.

There's a story a young comic told me about her first and last night in comedy. She got booked for a bringer show at The Comedy Store and four out of the five friends showed up. The producer told her she can't get up and her four friends who showed up can't get a refund. She told me there was no way to reach them as their phones were locked up in the iPhone containers. She said she started crying and the headliner of the bringer, unaware it was bringer, saw her crying and told the producer he won't go up if she doesn't go up. That man was Jim Gaffigan. He told the producer not to rebook him after that. That's how you handle that. 

If any bringer booker with a show called "[Their Name] & Friends" tells you, "Hey, you didn't bring enough people..." I want you to write back, "Sounds like like you're the one who can't bring. It's your name on the title of the show. Maybe get more friends."   

Final Thoughts 
Stop focusing on making sure all your people see all your shows. Don't try to focus on filling guest lists and getting people in for free. You know these people buy things all day on Amazon, Ticketmaster, and at their favorite stores. If they want to pay and show up, they will. Focus on your career and not the people who need you pulling strings to get them in. Focus on the show and let the producers focus on filling the seats. 

Papering the room, guest lists, and all the other ways people get into comedy free is not saving comedy. People paying to see comedy saves comedy. If they won't buy a ticket, then just focus on the people who will. If they're late to buying, tell them to go to the next one.

Sometimes comics want to watch a show for free to "support the show" or a comic wants to tag along with you to meet the producer, hoping they book them down the road. In the words of a famous booker at a very successful comedy club, "I'm nervous around comics who want to take up space because they aren't booked that night." 

​In the end, just get up on stage and be the best comic you can be. Don't worry about butts in seats, your friends getting in free, or other comics thinking they'll get booked if they drive with you. The comedy world is filled with paper rooms. Be the solution. Not the enabler.   

One of the most difficult parts of stand up comedy is when you decide in both your actions and your heart to dedicate yourself to the art form. Dealing with the emailing of bookers, the bad nights in bars instead of being at home, the highs and lows of auditions and showcases, making money on a weekend gig, and losing money on a weekday run. It's in the commitment we find our place in this industry. Some soar. Some sink. Some got in when the gettin' was good. Others were cursed to be born at the wrong time, fighting the lucky ones born a few years earlier. Regardless of your current status or goal setting progress, one piece of advice you hear from the 1% who make it is to not have a Plan B. It's viewed by many as a weakness and lack of confidence in your abilities. While there's a romantism in thinking such a thought, I can tell you, it's those without a Plan B (on stage or in life) that sink instead of swim. So let's break down the multiple area of stand up ranging from the act to the career to the life you live and how a Plan B applies. Because at the end of the day, Plan B isn't just for one night stands.   

What a Plan B Looks Like on Stage 
The great philosopher and boxer Mike Tyson once said, "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face." This is the definition of stand up comedy. You walk on stage and tell your opening joke and SILENCE. Or some guy yells out a heckle that gets a pop from the crowd. Plan A didn't work, so now it's time to have a Plan B. Sure, you can commit to the jokes you wrote, but is that really going to be productive?

A Plan B on stage might mean pleasant crowd work ("Thank you sir. I was afraid we would both bomb after that first joke. Clearly, you're the pro.") or shifting energy to go after them ("Okay shut the fuck up, buddy! If I'm not getting a laugh, no one is!"). It's a terrifying pivot, but sometimes it has to be done. 

Plan B might mean going into your best bit early and then forcing yourself to turn your second and third tier bits into better jokes. Louis CK, before the scandals, said he would start with his closer to force himself to write better jokes the rest of the set. It's a highwire act, but it's also thrilling. 

Plan B might mean going from clean to dirty or from dirty to clean. Sometimes you walk on stage and you punch the audience in the nose with some gross joke and lose them. Maybe shift gears and go find a more evergreen joke and go back to your shock jock routine later. The reverse can be true too. You started too clean, too bland. Maybe hit the crowd with a more risky joke. I don't swear too much on stage, but to survive bar shows I had to find material that was more in tune with dirtier minds. So I wrote jokes about accidently dating adult film actresses and hard conversations with my doctor about post heart attack blood flow issues. So I wrote MY VERSION of sex and dick jokes. And I feel like I can still say those jokes in most shows. 

In my first few years I would just plow through my set list, despite knowing I'm bombing. It was after watching a few pros make the switch when they bombed, I started pulling Plan B's out of my comedy tool box. 

Plan B Might Be the Type of Comedy Career You Have
Back in 2017 I watched Steve Martin's Masterclass. While 90% is unusable in today's comedy market, there was one idea that really stuck out to me. He states that not all jokes are for the stage. Some jokes are for sketches, screenplays, songs, or TV shows. Maybe you love doing stand up, but your jokes fall flat because they'd work better as a sketch or TV Show. I know a lot of comics who were doing straight forward stand up only to pivot to musical comedy and blow up on TikTok and the college market. They're now national touring comics. 

While most of us desire the Dave Attell experience of just walking on stage and everyone hangs on our every word, many comics found their home in comedy with the Plan B. They wrote sketches for SNL like Al Franken. They wrote and produced movies like Judd Apatow. They became talk show hosts like David Letterman. They wrote for Late Night Shows. They transferred their talents to other comedy platforms. I know it sounds funny that they took these lucrative jobs, but there's a reason many used these credits to get more stand up gigs later. Stand up was Plan A. Doing a 10 hour a day job was Plan B. 

Don't feel like if you switch from stand up to producing comedy shows you're "quitting." Albert Brooks, Jim Carrey, Amy Schumer, and Eddie Murphy all gave up stand up when they could. Meanwhile, Apatow went back into standup after building the careers of Seth Rogan (another former stand up) and others. Sometimes Plan B gives you the freedom to do Plan A later in life.

The key is not to limit yourself. Look at your strengths and dedicate yourself to those areas where people seem to engage the most with you. Success breeds success. So once you find an area you can excel in, it will only help you with other areas of this industry.  

Plan B Might Be Pivoting To Other Careers    
In Fight Club, Tyler Durden speaks of how our generation was told they could have anything, and clearly, we are seeing that was a lie, or at least a false reality for Gen X and below. It is in his words, "We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off."  
It's a hard reality that you might never get to be a full time stand up or work in the comedy industry beyond a certain point. Yet, there's a small percentage who get to make this a full time gig. I know many award winning comics who quit their day jobs and found themselves a year later back to the 9-5 grind. There's no shame in making sure you are housed, fed, and safe. Are there stories of homeless comics who made it? Yes. But that isn't a real pathway. If you sleep in your car for a couple days in between housing or moving, sure. If it's a year, then it might be time to reevaluate your situation. 

That doesn't mean you can't use your comedy skills to launch better careers. Plenty of comics transitioned into marketing careers, tech careers, customer service management, construction, etc. You can use your skills to become better than your 9-5 competition. I've gotten a lot of jobs ranging from writing OSHA approved white papers to biotech video scripts to comedy traffic school to sales manager by using comedy as a strength. Some hiring managers might think you're a court jester, but if you can make them laugh, you make them listen.    

This isn't Plan A for many, but I've seen too many comics with unrealistic expectations find themselves on the other side of financial ruins and depression because they're ten years in and despite killing it on stage, they're bombing in life. It's okay to move slow and methodical. It's okay to get up twice a week and work the other days to maintain a life worth living. When people say, "It's either this or nothing..." I feel for them.

Life is so big with so many pathways to meaning and purpose. I can promise you every successful comic you admire has problems too. Bill Burr once said there are plenty of men who lay in big comfortable beds with mortgages and families that wish they were sleeping on a futon with no bills and just the freedom of doing what they want. If reaching the highest points of comedy, acting, or singing was really a victory, then why do we read so many stories of those stars whose lives end in the rubble? 

Final Thoughts 
Plan B's are not a four letter word. Technically it's a 5 letter word. And sometimes Plan B's are just for a moment. Maybe you have to adjust your set from time to time. Maybe you have to rethink how to showcase your comedic talents. Maybe you have to work another job until your break comes through. Or maybe your break doesn't come, but you just get to be a stand up on your nights off. All of these roads are plausible and respectable. 

​I once saw a bumper sticker that said "other people's opinions don't pay my bills." Whether you internalize the need for success or you externalize it, because you need to prove yourself to others, both can lead to unwelcomed thoughts, behaviors, or pathways. You have to be true to yourself and your situation, knowing that in the end your Plan B might still be someone else's Plan A.

Last weekend I got to see an advanced screening of the new film The Life of Chuck staring Tom Hiddleston (Loki) and Mark Hamill (Luke Skywalker) and it's absolutely wonderful. It's a science fiction/fantasy genre bending gentle comedy about a man's life told in reverse order, seeing how he was more important to the fate of universe than he even knew. It's funny, sweet, sad, and poignant. It's also about the importance of doing the math correctly to make sense of the world around us. By combining pop psychology and the works of astronomer Carl Sagan, there's a great reminder in the film that while we might want to be a free spirit, if the math doesn't add up, then we are destine to a desperate state of mind. So let's look at how to "math" a side hustle or career that is stand up comedy. 

Don't Be Afraid to Lose Money In the Beginning 
Often, the start of your career is paying FOR stage time more than it is getting paid FROM stage time. $5 open mics. 1 item bucket mics. Parking costs. Gas. Food. It adds up. But in theory you have another job covering the costs, and you're able to budget in these costs. My first booked gig EVER was in the YooHoo room for 3 minutes at Flappers. My buddy was offended on my behalf I wasn't getting paid for my services to the club. I told him I'd ask the booker how to get paid next time. 6 months later I got paid to host for Bert Kreischer. That's an unusual fast track, but part of the "math" is to ask how to get paid - humbly and graciously. 

But until you start gathering up 1099's, you'll have to budget accordingly. Too often, comics spend a fortune up front with money they don't have on classes and mics, giving up in debt and without anything to show for it. It's okay to see a lack of financial return the first two years if you're getting stage time and using it to build a set and eventually an act. Some people like to say, "but I'm the talent! I should get paid!" Only in the sense of a NOUN. You aren't "talented" enough yet to be considered "the talent" until someone wants to give you money. 

Should I Take Road Gigs That Don't Pay Much? 
I get this question a lot from comics, and the math is both literal and figurative. Ask yourself a few questions before taking the gig:

• Will I get more stage time than I can get closer to home?
• Is it worth losing money RIGHT NOW in my life? 
• Can this lead to better gigs with the same booker?
• Is this where they start everyone before moving them up?
• Are there other reasons to be in that location?
• ​Do they cover food and room?
• Do I even want to do this gig?

I've taken low paying gigs to move up a booker' roster. I've taken low paying gigs to perform AND visit friends and family in that location. I've said no because the flight was more expensive than the pay and I couldn't afford it at that time in my life. I've also said no because I hated the experience before, and my time is to valuable to me.

But if you're trying to become a road comic, then you'll need to take a few feature gigs that pay less than you'd like to become a headliner. And once you've done them you can decide later if it's worth doing again. I've told bookers the gig doesn't cover travel costs and they've thrown in more money realizing that $5 a gallon gas isn't road gig friendly. But I asked. That's the trick. 

Remember, most bookers are thinking about all their rooms or their bottom line, and they have budgeted out what they can pay and not lose money themselves. Yes, they aren't applying the same philosophy to your career or wallet, but if there's enough mid-level comics willing to take crappy pay, then you just got priced out of their roster. 

You Aren't Just Negotiating For Yourself - You Represent All Comics At Your Level
One reason the pay in comedy isn't great is because a lot of part time comics take the low pay to get the stage time. Effectively ruining it for the people trying to be full time comedians. Their "math" allows them to take bad pay because they have spouses covering the difference, a small business that pays the rent, or they are just bad with money. When you take really bad pay ($100 for a trip out of state), it encourages venues and bookers to keep that rate. 

One reason the pay at the LA clubs is so bad ($15-$100) is because famous comics don't fight for money. They go up on local stages to work out material and then make hundreds of thousands on the road. Many of them never cash the $25 checks from the LA clubs. Meanwhile there's a starving up and comer leaving their day job early to get $25 for a show that made a gazillion dollars. Eventually, that comic will quit or spend years chasing their own tail until it all ends tragically.     

This is why it's important to let a booker know when you can't do a gig because the costs aren't covered by the pay. The math doesn't math. And if enough quality comics let them know this, then they'll either step up the pay or just book bad comics and lose the room. When the booker says, "Everyone else is okay with the pay," just know they're not, they just didn't speak up and eventually the booker loses them and never understands the math didn't math for them.  

Math is Metaphorical Too 
Math in comedy doesn't just have to math in the money numbers. Math can math in the time spent and lost. Not all gigs are worth losing gas, time, and your mental health over. I remember meeting comics at Flappers and The Ice House in my early day showcases who drove from northern California or from San Diego for a 5 minute spot. The math doesn't math there. It's not a lack of effort, but the return of investment isn't really worth the hours driving, and the time spent waiting for a small crowd with no one there watching who can promote you to a bigger show becomes soul crushing. 

When figuring out your time and mathing out your schedule, you have to think about the wear and tear on your car, the costs of food and gas and hotels, and the cost on realizing that show changed nothing in your life. One of the most dishonest plot twists in movie history is in La La Land when Emma Stone's character puts on a failed one woman show and later in the film a huge casting director was secretly there and casts her in a big Hollywood film. That doesn't happen in real life. 
No one is watching your bringer show you paid your friends to attend by buying their tickets. You won't get famous playing the YooHoo room, despite the "being funny, professional, and supportive" requirements they spew at you. Bar shows probably pay more than club showcases. The A Star is Born formula is for movies. Bradley Cooper isn't pulling you up on stage. So if you are putting in more expensive travel time than stage time, it's time to reevaluate and stay local until you build enough of an act to move into a city with more opportunities. Now, if you're an eccentric millionaire or recently won the lottery, then spend the money. But if the math doesn't math...it's time to pull out the calculator again.

I'll never forget the comedy student who put $3,000 on a credit card and had to ask for a refund because that money was supposed to be child support and the judge forced him to pay out. I told him we couldn't refund since he took the classes. He thought he'd be famous after a couple showcases. Just FYI, don't be that guy.   

Final Thoughts 
The question becomes, over time, are you in this for the long haul or a short dash? If your plan is to do stand up over the years regardless of reaching a certain level of fame and fortune, then you'll have to be strategic. If you're hoping to get famous in 2-3 years, then disregard my advice, drive 1,000 miles for 5 minutes of stage time, rack up credit card debt, neglect your families, and prove me wrong. But in the end, after working with thousands of students, hundreds of working comics, and numerous famous stars, I can tell you the most successful ones worked smarter and not just harder.    

There's only so much time in a day. You have a limited amount of money. You have responsibilities that have to be addressed. If you don't math correctly, you'll neglect important people, bills, and time only to find yourself with less than you put in. Effort is great, but it can't replace basic common sense. Telling a booker the gig is too far for the pay is okay. Refocusing your goals after certain opportunities don't pan out is smart for your mental health. Spending time goal setting and planning is the wise man's road map. Albert Einstein once said "Doing the same thing in comedy and expecting a different result is the definition of insanity." Or something life that. 
​
Just make sure your math actually maths.          

If there's one time of year we lose our comedy brothers and sisters, it's the summer time. Like a comedian Memorial Day, I can't tell you how many people give up comedy in the summer and never return. After a Fall and Winter of discontent, these fallen soldiers trade in stage time for vacation time. Whether I am running shows, running classes, or just participating in road gigs, I found it's harder to fill a comedy roster in the summer, and the comics who never tapped into paid gigs just slowly fade away, only to be seen on Facebook once in a blue moon liking your posts about future shows. "It's summer time and the living's easy" is a great philosophy for people grinding away 9-5 at an office job, but if you're committed to comedy, there are no seasons. In fact, now is the time to work on your summer body...of work...so when everyone shows up this Fall, you'll be prepared and they'll be buried in winter snow by your new sets. 

Time Off is Not In Your Vocabulary
Yes, yes, you get to visit family or spend a week camping, but if you really think you can take off three months and show up in mid-September and think you'll slay on stage, you're fooling yourself. So much of your material will be outdated (every pop culture reference is out) and you will have changed as a person, therefore disconnecting yourself emotionally from many of your jokes.     

Again, taking a family vacation is fine, but taking off the entire warm weather time to relax on weekends and attend parties and concerts at night isn't for you if you want this. You know who doesn't take summers off? Bands and musicians...because they're too busy working at those parties and beach bashes you want to chill at. 

I've seen it too many times over the years. People a couple years in think they've "earned" the right to take a long break. But had they been scheduling themselves correctly throughout the year, the self-care and work would have intertwined into a somewhat reasonable situation. So if your life is changing this summer, then make sure you schedule your stage and writing time around the other activities. I'm right now reworking my schedule to finish two screenplays, perform weekly, and get gym time in. We are all balancing together. 

It's not easy, but in the words of Michael Caine from The Weather Man, "Do you know that the harder thing to do and the right thing to do are usually the same thing? Nothing that has meaning is easy. 'Easy' doesn't enter into grown-up life."

Pick one or two nights to get up (open mics or booked gigs) and give yourself some writing time early in the morning or when you get your free time. This doesn't have to be formal. It can be:

• Journaling
• Jotting Down Random Set Ups
• Listing Complaints
• Voice Recording Frustrations 
• Talking Bits Out With Comics 

Everyone's process is different. If you couldn't write anything to workout on stage, start with one sentence (a complaint) and just beat it to death from every angle at an open mic or show that let's you do that. Two birds. One stone. Zero f**ks given. 

Your Family Can Wait Thirty Minutes
The biggest obstacle I hear is "my family wants me to..." and "We only see each other once a year..." or "My spouse really needs the help..." Great. And you can meet them after your thirty minutes of jotting down funny thoughts or at 8pm instead of 7pm because you did a slotted mic. Trust me, anyone who demands your time on their schedule is always the first to reschedule your meet up. In fact, most people who don't want to work around your schedule in a reasonably accommodating way are just demonstrating they don't respect your goals or dreams, and trust me, you will eventually find yourself cutting them off down the road. If you keep compromising for them, eventually you have no friends, you resent your family, and no comedy career.
 
Clearly, you need to attend the graduations, the birthday parties, the weekly family trip to Yosemite, and the occasional guys/girls night. But if everything is being built around everyone's schedule, you're going to feel it in your bones. I have friends who won't work their schedule around their gym time, afraid they'll lose muscle mass. Is that the healthiest mentality? Probably not, but you got to respect the dedication. At some point you get to put yourself first, because no one else will. 

Comedy Isn't a Job, But Treat It That Way
I don't like telling people comedy is a job. Because it isn't. It's a career. It's a lifestyle. It's a way of life. A job is 8 hours (or more) a day, with required breaks and supervisors. But if you treat comedy like a job, people will understand. Maybe not a first, but over time they will. 

If you told your family and friends, "I can't go to dinner because I work," they'd say that's fine and they'd reschedule another time or day. If you make comedy a priority like that, they will learn to respect it. 

"Sorry, I have to get in my stage time Tuesday night. And I can't any other day this week" is a perfectly fine answer. Ah, but Paul, if I don't do comedy, it's not like I will get fired like a "real" job. Yes you will. When you don't get up and then the paid gig or the showcase comes up and you're not ready, and suddenly the booker won't rebook you. Just like anything else, failing to prepare is preparing to fail.    

Final Thoughts 
Being a comedian isn't easy. It's a lot of sacrifice, and you see so many other people living a life that doesn't involve the struggles comedy creates. But that "normal" life isn't for you. Remember, in a sold out comedy show, there's 200 people watching and only 2-3 people performing. That's the ratio of people creating to those consuming. Want to be different? Then do something different. Successful comics don't spend their summers getting a tan. Their neighbors who attend shows do that. 

I once heard this great story about the Glenn Miller Orchestra. It was winter and they had a gig in the Mid-west. The snow was so brutal they couldn't land the plane at the airport. Instead, they had to land in a giant cornfield about a mile away from the venue. So the band put on their costumes, grabbed their instruments and dragged themselves and the equipment through all that cold to the musical hall. As they walked, knees deep in snow, freezing their asses off, they passed a small house. Inside the lights were on and the fireplace was crackling. The kids were playing games, and the parents were dancing. One member of the band looked at another and said, "How can people live like that?" And then trekked on another mile to the gig. 

You have to see the world from that point of view sometimes. Comedy is about long car rides at midnight, smelly bar gigs, time away from work, missing Coachella, telling your pastor you'll be back in a few weeks, leaving parties early, and turning your frustrations into sketches, bits, and tweets. If you want to be like everyone else, then you can, but instead of sacrificing your time, you'll sacrifice your soul. 

​I recently took a Saturday night off to see a movie. I was sitting at a Lazy Dog bar sipping on Diet Coke and eating Thai pad noodles watching the "normal" people saying hacky crap to each other, sharing ignorant hot takes, and saying "that's what she said," waaayyy more than anyone should. I texted a few comic buddies sharing my observations. All of them have comedy specials on big platforms. Their response: "I'm scared of being normal." Amen.       

​If there's one thing about traveling the country doing comedy I love outside the actual performing, it's meeting people from the audience members and the waitstaff and venue crews. Everyone has a story, and after getting to share my story on stage, people want to share their story with me. What I find fascinating is when comics just want to shine on stage and then ignore or belittle the staff or ditch the fans by sneaking out the back. Now, if you're Dave Chappelle or Jerry Seinfeld, you can probably sneak out the back, but I hear they treat the staff wonderfully. But considering their fan base might get nuts, I understand. For the road dogs and beginners, there is no excuse when it comes to shaking hands after the show and telling the staff it was a pleasure to work with them. Even if the crowd wasn't the best and the staff didn't cut the crust off your sandwich, you aren't a prima donna and these are human beings. 

This past weekend I met so many wonderful staff members at the Rain Rock Casino and Harvey's Comedy Club, as well as bar tenders and waiters at the restaurants, my weekend was full and rewarding even if I never did a single set. What I realized after talking to the people is they seemed genuinely interested in my life as a comic, and it was implied many comics they met weren't as "generous" with their time. Maybe it's the teacher and extrovert in me, but I always like learning about people and having them ask me questions. It's part of the job in the early stages, and a way to sustain your relationship with a city, and it's the right thing to do. 

It Starts Early in Your Career 
When I started 11 years ago, I still remember sitting at the bar at Flappers, the Ice House, and the Van Nuys Springbok talking to the staff and learning about them. The way I approach it is we are all co-workers together. They work the front and I work the stage. But if they do their job and the drinks and food are served well, my job is easier. And If I'm funny and engage the crowd, the people will come back and tip them again. Being a "human being" is good for your career and the venue. 

I remember the old booker at Flappers, Richie Leis, and my mentor Ken Pringle telling me to stand at the exits and shake hands and talk to fans as they exit the room, whether it was the YooHoo Room or a bar show. I took that to heart, and now that my face and name is on the marque, talking to them is not just a suggestion but a requirement. I know some comics feel awkward and social interaction doesn't come naturally, but you got to find that inner-Bert Kreischer and learn to love meeting the people paying your bills.

So many times, younger comics, when I was starting would bail after their set to hit a mic or hang at The Comedy Store. None of them 10 years later are doing road work or regulars at the Store. Their lack of interacting with fans and staff early on and their career in stalemate is not a coincidence. People want a experience. Even the staff at the comedy shows want an experience - it's why they chose to work there. The experience begins when you show up and ends after everyone has left. You have to fill the time with as much exposure and good vibes as possible. Oh, and tip the staff when they bring you free food or drinks, you animals! 

Answer The Staff's Questions - Even If You Think It's Weird
I can't tell you how many times I've been sitting in a casino greenroom or theater backstage and one of the venue's employees says, "There's always something I've wanted to know about comedians..." and then they ask one of the following questions:

• How do you write your material?
• What's the scariest part about being on stage?
• Do you and the other comic travel everywhere together?
• Is everything off the top of your head?
• If I wanted to start comedy, what should I do? 

And while you might want to get ready or your set, I would highly encourage you to engage fully and vulnerably with the staff, manager, etc. First, because they're a human being and deserve the dignity of being treated as such. Secondly, because you want them to want to help you later when something goes wrong. Sometimes I'll check into the hotel and mention I'm the comedian, and after I answer a few questions, they'll wave a temporary security deposit fee or upgrade me from a queen to king size bed. People love exercising their power, both positively and negatively, so try to be the type of person that encourages others to want to help you. Thirdly, because their tone seems to imply other comics weren't friendly and if you seem approachable, that's a blessing. 

Clearly, there are boundaries you can set, like talking about how your social life is effected or how much money you make, but having a quick and funny response will keep them wanting to stay positive with you too. If they ask how much you make, thinking you're making Seinfeld money, I just like joking, "Thank God the hotel room is comped." That lets them know you aren't a complete open book. People living outside of LA might ask things others in bigger cities would never ask, so you just want to keep the energy positive when they step over the line. 

Meet and Greet Now For When You Meet and Greet For Real Later
I once heard a pastor say "Don't dress for the job you have. Dress for the job you want." The same philosophy applies to interacting with audience members. As soon as the show is over, get out to the exit doors and shake hands and say thank you for coming. And I don't care that you were just an opener or guest set. If you performed, get out there and kiss babies!  

A) It helps the venue by looking like the comics enjoyed their time and will encourage to come back 

B) You get great experience interacting with fans for later when you're selling merch. 

Over the years I've met so many interesting people. Last weekend I met an amazing retired EMT from New York who saved lives on 9/11 and got flown around the country by casinos because of his Player's Card Points. I've met swingers from Wisconsin. I've had teachers tell me it was it was inspiring to see another former teacher on stage. I've had people buy me more sodas (and vodka sodas in my early days) than I can count. 

Comedians have a different relationship with their audience. Actors and singers are elevated to "god" status, but comics are seen as men and women of the people - until you're at Kevin Hart's level. A few weeks ago I wrote about finding inspiration in pro wrestlers from the 1980's and 1990's. If Rowdy Piper and Ric Flair can sign autographs and high five kids, you can talk to a couple from Indiana who goes to one comedy show a year.

Final Thoughts
Comedy isn't just about writing jokes and performing them. It's the part that that we enjoy, but it's the tip of the iceberg. Under the glamour and showmanship there's the marketing, merch, branding, social media, and interaction with venue staff and fans. If you just like getting the laughs, eventually the audience will remember that. In fact, working at Flappers we saw comics sell out one year and the next year would cancel the final shows due to low ticket sales. The correlation was their lack of desire to meet with the fans after. 

You've probably heard that comedy is a conversation. At some point the audience wants to connect on another level. They want to thank you for cheering them up. They want to relate to a story you shared. They want to feel like you and them have more in common than just this evening. Every person has a story. It's our job as we rise though the ranks to hear their story for a few seconds after the show. 

Often after featuring or headlining, a guest or venue staff member would would say, "When are you coming back?" My response: "Let the venue know you'd like to see me come back." I haven't gotten the call yet that I'm not welcomed back. And I will say, there is nothing better than seeing a bartender or a fan once a year that remembered you and said they were looking forward to you coming back.   

​This is part of the job. So enjoy it.