What is the thing I fear doing the most and also the thing that could most help my comedy writing career right now? Standup. I shudder even thinking about it. I love to watch standup, but I fear for my wellbeing on many levels if (when) I eventually ovary-up and perform it. Here are just a sampling of the things I think will happen to me when I bite that atomic bullet.
- I will stand on stage and be surrounded by a sea of silence, no laughs to be found.
- I will get only a few pity-laughs. Obvious in their meaning and far worse than no laughs at all.
- I will forget the English language.
- I will mix up the orders of jokes like some bad movie and/or mom moment.
- I will be sandwiched between two extraordinarily funny people, emphasizing my unfunniness.
- I will have a wardrobe malfunction. Not something I’d really care about in life, but here an insult-to-injury kind of thing.
- Actually funny people will make fun of me behind my back.
- I will be so mortified that I actually faint, upping my mortification levels significantly.
- I will have a panic attack onstage and be stuck up there, in that shitty bar, having a panic attack, surrounded by strangers.
- Someone important in the TV/film industry will see me bomb, then blacklist me from ever working for the rest of my life.
- One of my idols will see me bomb, then never respect me.
- I will be possessed by a demon, just once, who is really funny. I will develop a taste for the laughs that the demon gets, but once he leaves by system I will be unable to reap them for myself.
- The Flop Sweats.
- I will literally die.
- I will hurt bad enough from the bombing and all the anxieties already primed in my system that I will give up and never do standup again.
So. I guess I should do standup now. Whoop whoop.