by Harris Bloom
Getting Heckled
A comedian getting heckled is analagous to getting called for jury duty— you know it's going to happen, but you hope it's not anytime soon.
Thanks to winning the "Best Comic of the Night" award at an open mic (to be honest, I could've urinated on the stage and still been deemed the best), I got a five minute spot at the club's Saturday Night Latino Laughter Show. If you've wondering why they'd give out a spot to a "Latino" show to comics who aren't Latino or even necessarily have "Latino-friendly" material, I can't help you there. You may as well ask me why I spent three hours at an open mic to win an 11:30 PM five-minute spot in the dead of winter at a club where I have to take three trains to get to. Anyway, it wasn't the first time I'd won - the first few times went okay...not this time.
I got to the club around 10:30 as I was told I'd go on around 11. There were about 20 people in the audience, all Latinos. I watched four or five comics go up before me, all Latinos. Some were pros, some amateurs - they all got a fairly poor response from the crowd.
Judging by the material that worked for the other comics, my best bet would've been to hit the stage and exclaim, "Where my Puerto Ricanos at!" (Applause) "Where my Dominicanos at!" (Applause) "Where my Mexicanos at!" You get the idea.
At around 11:30, I was told I was next. I was also getting "the check spot" which means they drop the checks on the table during my set - it's considered the worst time slot since everyone's busy figuring out what they owe for the bill and no one's paying attention to the comic. So before going on, I knew I was in trouble.
Just before me a comic spoke about integrating the races. A young woman in the front row shouted, "I'm okay with it as long as there are no Jews involved." And some other girl in the crowd agreed with her. The comic tried to work with them, but ended up calling them both "loco."
When I got on, I started with, "So, I'm Jewish" and looked at the segregationist. A few laughs but she indignantly responded, "That's good for you...I just don't want us all integrated and shit." And it went downhill from there.
Most of the people were discussing their bill, others were just tuning me out. One woman was watching me so looking at her, I said, "Okay, I'll talk to you. What's your name?"
"Anna."
"Uh huh. So what do you do for a living?"
"I work for the transit company."
"Uh huh," and after a pause I continued, "I got nothing." Then I tried to go into my material.
After my joke about my girlfriend's use of the word 'Hooray,'" one woman was sufficiently roused from her sleep to inquire, "Hooray? What the fuck is that?"
"Yes," I agreed, "What the fuck is that?"
"You should dump her."
"That's a little harsh, no?"
"I just think she sounds weird."
"Uh huh."
She turned to her friends to inquire, "We paid? Wanna head out?" asking loud enough that I had to chime in with something. "But you'll miss my big finale."
"That's okay," she said, as her friends all got up to walk out.
My eyes followed them out. I wish my body followed.
After another attempted joke, someone asked, "Is that supposed to be funny?"
"It was last night."
A couple of times, I aborted jokes midstream, when I realized they weren't gonna dig them.
My favorite part of my set was when I saw the light that comes on meaning my time was up. I think that was the audience's favorite part as well.
