Stand-up Comedy is Making Me Fat and Broke: 10 Gains and Losses of My First Year in Stand-up

(and why everyone should go to an open mic at least once)

I never dreamt of being a stand-up comedian. I never knew I would chase the high of making a room full of strangers laugh. I never thought at 37, I would spend most nights in dimly lit bars sitting amongst 20 other aspiring comedians waiting for my turn at an open mic where I would perform four minutes of cringe-worthy stand-up.

If anyone asked me at 22, “Bridget, what will you be doing at 37?” I would have confidently answered, “I’ll be married, living in the Chicago suburbs with 3 kids, working at a PR agency.” Solely because a PR agency sounded cool, not because I knew anything about PR.

I would not have said, “I’ll be very single, living in a glorified studio, my frozen eggs locked up at the Fertility Clinic of Illinois with an unpaid internship at a comedy club.”

Honestly, you could interchange 22 and 32. I had no idea I was on the path to stand-up until I was 35. I went through a bad breakup and after a month of self-pity and drunk dialing my ex-boyfriend, I decided to take the reins and do something different. Two of my friends had always been pushing me to write down my stories, so with their urge, I googled “how to write a funny book.” Shortly after I found myself signing up for the Humorous Memoir Writing program at The Second City.

Friends and family have since inquired if I always had this dream to write a book. No, of course not. My dream was to be a size 6. I just happen to have some crazy tales to share: like the time I clogged a boyfriend’s toilet and in a moment of sheer panic I put my sh*t in my jeans pocket, or when I went to the gyno and she told me I had two tampons in, or the time I got lice at 34, or the time I kissed a guy and my mouth went numb so I started crying thinking I was having a stroke but really he had been doing coke the entire night and it was on his lips. I must mention that guy was 52 years old. Anyways, you get the point — weird stuff has happened to me.

At the end of the Humorous Memoir Writing class we had a graduation of sorts and invited family and friends to come to our storytelling show. I was extremely nervous but the minute I started talking and making people laugh, I was off!

After the show, my teacher asked me if had done stand-up before with my unplanned one-liners and the producer of the show asked me to perform on another storytelling show she ran. I was hooked.

About a year into storytelling, I decided to give stand-up a go. There is a big difference between storytelling and stand-up. Stand-up is fast — you’re always cutting words, getting to the joke quicker. The audience is expecting immediate laughs. Storytelling has a beginning, a middle, and an end. You want to rope the audience in with drama and detail. When mixed together, I personally think it’s comedy gold. I am now officially past one year into stand-up and there have been many gains and losses (hence, the title of this article). So without further ado, here they are:

1. Gain: Confidence. Not just on stage. You gain confidence in everyday life. When you bomb at an open mic, it’s awkward but no one cares because no one is really paying attention. The crowd is usually just other comics worried about their own set. But when you bomb at a show, it is SOUL CRUSHING. I bombed so hard at The Comedy Bar, I didn’t want to leave backstage. I had a lot of friends there that night who had never seen me perform and I was so embarrassed they saw me blow it. But you know what? I faced it. I found my friends in the crowd and watched the rest of the show. I went home that night and watched “Worst I Ever Bombed” on Jimmy Fallon’s YouTube channel. Famous people talking about their worst sets and comedic failures. It definitely helped me to remember how f*&king hard stand-up is — even for the comedians I look up to. But that’s bombing on stage. I don’t only bomb at stand-up. I bomb at work, I bomb on dates, I bomb on workouts, I bomb at paying my credit cards on time, but when I bomb now in any aspect of my life, I don’t sweat it. I pull up Jimmy Fallon’s YouTube channel, laugh and move on. Need confidence? Go to an open mic.
2. Gain: Humility — This goes hand in hand with confidence. I am lucky that my first time on stage it went well (the graduation show). If it had not, I likely would have never tried stand-up. Every time I had done a storytelling show, I got good feedback. Then I tried stand-up. The experience isn’t even comparable. I nearly cried and sulked back to my seat thinking did I really just do that? Did I really get on a stage and say those not funny words? Stand-up will make you humble really quick. It’s so tough. A joke that works on Monday’s audience won’t work on Tuesday. You’ll see a comic destroy a packed house at Zanies and then die a slow death through their next set at a local bar. It’s a total mindfu*k. Not everyone will like you or your jokes. Being a people pleaser all my life, I don’t like this part, but quite frankly, who would? But it makes you resilient. It makes you work harder, which in turn makes you a stronger comic. Got a big ego? Go to an open mic.
3. Gain: New Friends — Wow, I have met so many amazing people! 95% of the people I have met through comedy, I would have never have met in my day to day life: from writing teachers to mentors to producers to friends. Age being a huge factor here. I have been on shows with comics ranging from age 20 to 67. Last year at The Laugh Factory open mic, I met a 19 year old guy who had just moved to Chicago from Peoria, Illinois for college. I was 36. Not only is he hilarious and going to be huge, he is a wonderful person that I now call my friend. If I didn’t do comedy, would I have met him? Never. Feeling lonely? Go to an open mic.
4. Gain: $750 — I have made some money, honey! I’ve made roughly $750 from stand-up in one year. Since it’s only $750, comedy is clearly not my day job. In fact I co-hosted an open mic called “Don’t Quit Your Day Job.” But it’s fun getting paid for a passion! No one has ever paid me to go running or day drinking on a Saturday (my other *ahem* passions). Want to potentially make money for 6 to 60 minutes of talking one day? Go to an open mic.
5. Gain: 10 lbs — When you spend 4 nights a week in a bar, things like tater tots, nachos and Blue Moons just happen and workouts happen less. However, after an adjustment period, I have figured out a schedule to make sure I am still working out, eating semi-healthy and drinking Blue Moon, moderately. However, if you gained confidence, humility, new friends and $750 — would you really care about 10 lbs? Need to gain some weight? Go to an open mic.
6. Loss: Boredom — I am never bored. Being single, living alone and in my mid-30s, I used to get bored all the time. I’d go to work, then maybe a workout class, then home to work more, watch TV, swipe, and scroll. I didn’t have a hobby or passion. I don’t cook, knit, play an instrument or video games. A lot of my friends are married with kids or have significant others and most of my family is in the suburbs. Now with stand-up, at any given night of the week, I have something to do - if I want. I am busier than ever and I love it. Writing this made me realize I should volunteer too. Bored? Go to an open mic. And volunteer.
7. Loss: Work Stress (not a total loss, let’s say reduced) — I have a fun yet demanding sales job. There are not enough hours in the day and I never feel completely unplugged. If I didn’t have stand-up, I would be constantly working or worrying about work. However, now that I essentially have two jobs, I don’t have the time to be overthinking about my day job — I gotta get to a mic! Also whenever I have a rough day at work, I don’t go on the hunt for a happy hour. I go to an open mic and laugh my head off and forget how silly it all is. It makes me feel grounded and alive. Work stress will always be there but good news — so will comedy. Having a bad day at work? Go to an open mic.
8. Loss: Chasing guys — I have been chasing guys my whole life. I once faked an interest in soccer and joined a team because a guy I liked told me he was playing…and that was in kindergarten. It got real nutty between the ages of 11 and 35. But since I found comedy, I stopped. I don’t have time. I am dating stand-up, storytelling and writing. It’s hard to manage those three plus my job, my family and friends — so when would a guy fit in? I still want to meet someone but it’s not a priority. I must note I have dated here and there while doing stand-up and had crushes that weren’t reciprocated. The difference is that although I was bummed my crush didn’t like me, I didn’t stalk him and try to make him like me. I am just living my life and I figure it will work out, eventually. Want to forget about being single and avoid potential restraining orders? Go to an open mic.
9. Loss: The need to figure out my life plan. This is a piggyback to chasing guys. I don’t have any plans for my life besides trying to get my credit score up and lose these 10 lbs. Will I get married? I don’t know. Will I have kids? Maybe. Will I use the frozen eggs I have? No idea. Will I stay in Chicago? Probably. Will I finish writing my book? Yes. I really didn’t think I would be single without kids at 37, but I am ok with it. If it happens, it happens. Comedy has made me realize there are so many different ways to live life and I am currently enjoying the present. I can’t stop the aging process but I can stop regretting past decisions. Want to live your life in the now? Go to an open mic.
10. Loss: 3K — I recently added up my Ubers spent going to and from mics and shows and … I need to take public transportation. I have been spoiled by my walk to and from work. I spent over 3K on Ubers in the last year. Don’t forget though, I also made $750, so that’s only $2250. But when looking at the big picture — what’s $2250 when you’ve gained confidence, humility and new friends while saying goodbye to boredom, stress and stopped chasing guys to try and figure out your life? It’s nothing! Looking to make a change? Go to an open mic.