An Evening In Hell

Tuesday June 7th, 2011 - Ann Arbor, MI

   Back out for another week of road work, or so I thought. BIG mistake. Huge. ‘The road’ as I’ve known it for the better part of a lifetime appears to be dead. One thing is definitely for sure, if the rest of the week is anything like tonight, I’LL be dead. This was a disaster.

   In the old days, it was possible to piece together a week of work from different booking agents and manufacture a living. One night from one booker, then one or two more from a different one in the area, then maybe a weekend run from a third, and it all worked out.

   Usually, booking agents tend to have work in certain regions. Sometimes it overlaps, so that’s how to piece together weeks so everyone wins. I’ll call a booker and say I’m in the area on a certain week and try to get something close by to bring the pay up for the week.

   That’s what I thought I was doing this week. I’m in Ann Arbor, MI for the weekend and I really like that club. Audiences are smart and the manager and staff are laid back and my style has always gone over very well there. I haven’t been there in a while and I’m excited to be back. I thought I’d done well by finding two nights in front of it to fill out the week.

   The guy who booked these shows is a fellow comic and a nice guy. He did warn me that they’d be ‘typical one nighters’ and that he was just booking them to keep sources of cash available to working comics in these times. I don’t fault the guy for any of that, and I was grateful to get them. It would pay for my gas and food, even though there was no hotel.

   Most one nighters come with a hotel room, but there are a lot of comedians in Michigan so they don’t always do that here. Whatever. Motel 6 is nearby, and I still come out ahead   in the end, or so I thought. This was one of the most brutal gigs I’ve ever done, and that’s a big statement coming from me as I’ve done them all. Why? Money. That’s always why.

   This was beyond money. It was some road house in the middle of nowhere that doesn’t charge a cover, and the people were drunker and stupider than I’ve ever seen gather all in
one place in recent memory. They either talked through the entire show or stared up at the stage with blank looks of bewilderment like we were speaking in some form of gibberish.

   The opening act was Kate Brindle, one of my all time faves. She’s a sweetheart and one of the most peaceful souls I’ve ever met and they just buried her alive. They talked all the
way through her show and it was downright rude. I could tell it would happen to me also.

   Sure enough, they didn’t shut up the entire time. I stood there trying to be dignified, but that’s no picnic when an entire room full of drunken apes are babbling. I’ve done way too
many of these in my lifetime and seriously considered just walking off stage and leaving.

   Those boozers weren’t there for comedy, and it wouldn’t have mattered a bit. But, I told the guy who booked it I’d do it and I spoke to the owner who was actually a nice guy. He
apologized for the drunks and said tomorrow night would be better. It couldn’t be worse.

Posted via email from Dobie Maxwell's "Dented Can" Diary