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Nice legs, shame about the jokes

As a stand-up comic it’s always great when someone from the audience comes up afterwards to compliment you. Except when the compliment is:

“hey, nice legs”

Is that really the best you can say to me when I’ve been busting my balls all night trying to make you laugh. And not even great legs, just ‘nice’ legs. What really bugs me is that I know my legs aren’t even that nice. They’re pale, they’re bruised and they flare out at the thigh. Good god, my boobs are better than my legs, but they don’t even get a mention?

Same show, second set, new guy:

“hey nice sandals”

Ok, first of all they’re not sandals. Sandals are something I used to wear when I was six. Sandals are something ugly guys wear with black socks. I wear shoes. You could have really made my day and told me they looked comfortable. They’re not, they make my feet ache, they give me blisters and they make me walk like I’ve got a stick up my bum. But I will never trade style for comfort. The day I wear anything on my feet with orthapedic support or a cushioned heeel is my last day on earth. And anyway what is a guy doing commenting on my shoes. If he’d said ‘great pants’, I’d think he wanted to get inside them. But what kind of perv wants to get inside my shoes?

And topping off a splendid evening:

“I really love your accent”

I know you probably mean this as a compliment, and god knows I hear this enough times, but it’s a real bummer. I work on my stand-up material, I invest time and energy on it, I strive to get better. The accent? Guess what, I was born with it. I don’t stand in front of the mirror practising the English way to pronounce tomato and wondering if I’ve sufficiently emphasized the ‘r’ sound at the end of my words. When you comment on my accent, you make me wonder if I’d get the same crowd reaction from standing up there with my legs and my sandals, reading this week’s HEB specials.

To be honest, you really don’t need to say anything to me after my set. All you need to do is clap loudly when I finish. I don’t care what you clap for, hell the back of my head is pretty decent, just help me keep my illusions of a comedy career alive for another night.

Thank you