Last night was absolutely phenomenal. I did my first set at Comedy Works in downtown Denver. I got to perform on a stage that has been shared by many great comedians I admire, and didn't do half bad. After my set, there were a few veteran comedians that mentioned I did really well for my first time there, and they were really supportive to guide me along while I was there and how to get the footage of my set. I received some really constructive feedback from the show runner, and had quite a few audience members come up to me and comment on how great I did.
It felt fantastic.
One of the most amazing instances of the night was once I got outside, a man came up to me and said, "Honestly man, your set saved my whole night. The few guys that went before you were kind of sinking and pretty dark, and I felt bad because I'm showing my girlfriend's parent around the city and wanted to treat them to a good night and could tell they weren't feeling it until you got up there and crushed it, so thanks man, I loved it."
I was floored.
It was a fantastic ending to a fantastic experience and the amount of joy that ballooned in my heart was just the pick-me-up I needed.
I mean, I feel funny, but us humans have a way of downplaying ourselves and feeling insecure, and I'm definitely guilty. It was just really nice to have a complete stranger approach me just to confirm my suspicion that I might actually be able to make people laugh for real.
It's been a rough couple weeks since being broken up with, losing my job, and basically beating myself up on St. Patrick's Day but I feel like in a way, that set was like the torch I need to navigate the darkness I feel nagging at me. Now I just have to keep that feeling in the back of my mind and know that when all else is crumbling in my life, at least I can make a joke about it.
I understand now why so many comedians chase this feeling.
I felt unstoppable and to have actual positive reviews from audience members, I don't know how I could ever stop wanting to do this. I don't think I could ever forget how great it felt.