Summer nights

The temperature was a balmy 70 degrees when we pulled into Raleigh, and it seemed like the whole town was out. Crowds of people were drinking and laughing on every corner. The energy was vibrant and a sense of positivity floated through the air.

We were not part of it. As we drove through the city, happiness and positivity splattered against the van's windshield like June bugs. We were gearing up for the antithesis of vibrant energy -- open mic.

We always look suspicious in the van, but its the worst at night. Instead of using shades that sit flush against the windows, we hang towels over them. When we turn the lights on inside, an alien glow radiates from the corners of each window like we’re enriching plutonium.

PTSD

Seeing everyone else have a great time brought Dan C back to his college days in Pittsburgh. His flashbacks became too strong and he had to let the emotions out. In his own words ….

I studied math and computer science in school, which is a fancy way of saying that sex was for other people. I programmed a lot, and a bunch of my time was spent isolated in computer labs or my bedroom. The closest I’ve ever come to a breakdown was watching the Rascal Flatt’s “Summer Nights” music video after coding for like 12 hours in a smelly basement on campus. Beaten down from physical and mental exhaustion, I openly wept at the sight of young, happy, beautiful people partying on a beach. But luckily things are different now. Now, I live in a smelly van with another heterosexual man, and I shower at a Planet Fitness.

On to the show

The mic was at a sports bar where the layout was perfect for comedy. There was a stage (not directly next to the entrance, like in Richmond) and most of the seats faced front. The host was also from Philadelphia so it was awesome to bond before the show. There was an Eagles game on TV at the time, which provided a wellspring of off-the-cuff crowdwork material to tap into. As there were many sports fans in the audience, there was plenty of playful banter going on.

The small space created a strong audience/comic bond, and everyone was on the same wavelength. In some rooms, asking the few females in attendance about pussy eating could ruin the energy. Not here. Everyone was on board for even the filthiest of crowd work.

The host did a great job of keeping the audience entertained between sets, too. At one point he got into a heated ‘debate’ with a patron about sports. Right when we thought it might escalate to a physical altercation, they laughed and hugged it out.

After connecting with a few comedians we packed up our stuff and headed to Chapel Hill.