Real-Life Decision Making
The success of a stand-up comic depends on his material. Take, for example, Jerry Seinfeld. Rather than spend half an hour doing his impersonation of dead political leaders or boring people with the details of his latest love gone wrong, Seinfeld takes us everywhere and anywhere.
A Seinfeld comic monologue can begin with a discussion of toothpaste, take us through the world of neckties and oranges and dump us off after a closing argument against vegetarianism.
You've been doing the low-rung comedy circuit for years now. By low-rung, we mean the dives, the places you wouldn't want your own mother to come to. Early yesterday, you got a phone call from Sam "The Man" Bigelow, who owns a chain of high-class comedy clubs in Los Angeles.
"Now look here," he says to you, "I think you'd fit in well with the rest of them down there. Interested?"
There is no choice to be made. "Yes!" you blurt out. "When do you want me to be down there, Mr. Bigelow?"
"Day after tomorrow," he replies. "You're going on after the main act on Friday night. Your plane ticket will be waiting for you at the airport. See you Friday, then!"
Thus far in your career, your gimmick has been all about insulting, boorish behavior. This might have to change, though. You're going all the way to Los Angeles to perform at the comedy clubs you see on television. Doesn't that mean you're going to have to clean up your act?
What do you do?