My Check Said BOING!

Monday December 17th, 2007 - Chicago, IL/Lake Villa, IL

Back to work today. Mondays are going to be busy again and I’m delighted. Zanies will continue doing Monday night showcases well into 2008 and I was asked to host whenever I can or want to. I told them I can and want to any and every week available. They will be happy to get an experienced host who can move the shows along and I will be happy for a chance to make a few bucks on a Monday night. It’s a win/win situation and I love those.

I am a little jittery about next year even though I feel I’m doing the right thing. This will be the first time in my adult life that I’m not going into a year considering myself to be any other thing but a comedian first. Even when I was in radio I still looked at myself as being a comedian who had a radio job. Jay Leno said he is a comedian who has a TV show. I am no longer thinking that in my mind. Now I am an entrepreneur who does standup comedy.

I need to make some money. Period. I got farther away from that today when I checked my mailbox at the UPS Store near Zanies. I received the bounced check from the week of hell I just did in Arkansas and Oklahoma. I stupidly took a check for the Friday night show at the restaurant in Tulsa and it came back rubbery. I was furious when I saw it and it still honks me off as I think about it now. That week was torture and this brings it all back like a clogged toilet that won’t flush. Now I’ll have to go to the booker and fight to get paid.

Most bookers take the side of the club and there’s no reason to think these guys won’t. I already sent my commission to them and that didn’t bounce. This really rubs me raw and it never should have happened. I know better than to take a check but I did it thinking I’d be taken care of the following night when I did the corporate holiday party. Instead the exact opposite happened. They ripped me off even worse than I thought and now this. It stinks.

I used to wonder why comedians had bad attitudes and were bitter. When I started out I used to see headliners bitch and moan relentlessly and I couldn’t ever figure out why. All I wanted to do was be a comedian and I said if I would ever get my chance to be a headliner myself that I’d never complain about anything. I did get my chance and now I see why the other guys were so upset. It’s a grind and it wears you down after so many years of it all.

I’m glad I didn’t have the booker’s number when I got that rubber check in the mail. I’d have called and burned not only this bridge but about six more. There is absolutely no way this should have happened and now my bank is adding charges onto it as a penalty to me. I will have a hell of a time getting that paid back and I dread having to bring this up at all.

This is the reason I’m so done with the road life. Not only were my nerves frazzled from a week of hillbilly hell but now my wallet is raped as well. The whole thing makes me want to violently puke but I have to keep fighting and move ahead. I need to make a living but I can’t afford to just let this go. I have to fight for my money and I will but the fun is gone.

This is what makes me want to be the King of Uranus even more. If I’m calling the shots there won’t be any bounced checks. I’ll be the one writing them. This was a painful lesson.