I Say, I Say, I Say

I went to watch some stand-up comedy last night. According to interviews I’ve read, it appears that comedians become annoyed when members of the public come up to them when they’re at the supermarket or wherever and tell them jokes or say to them, “I reckon I could be a stand-up comedian”. I suppose it’s like being a doctor and having people always trying to put your arm in a sling when you’re trying to tie your shoelaces or something.

After the performance, one comic (Shappi Khorsandi – funny!) came and sat at our table. I promised myself that I wouldn’t tell her that I reckon I could be a stand-up comedian. Straight after promising myself this I realised how conceited I was being even beginning to imagine that I might be able to actually do stand-up. I concluded that I didn’t really think I could do it. Although I went on to think that if you’re a professional comic, you’ve got all day every day to sit around thinking of funny things to say. How hard can that be?

Despite these contradictory thoughts raging about my brain, I was still determined not to say to Shappi that I thought I could do stand-up if I ended up talking to her.

By the time all that had gone through my head, it was time for Ella and me to go home. While I’d been in my own little space, imagining what I wouldn’t say to someone I’d never spoken to before, Ella had been chatting away with Shappi and her friend, having a laugh and exchanging phone numbers.

Just as I was about to leave, I found myself saying goodbye to lots of people who I'd been sat with all night but hadn't spoken to. One was Shappi and she asked me what I did and I told her I was a teacher. She said, “I reckon I could be a teacher.”

Not really.

But she did say “I’ve got a lot of friends who are teachers, and I reckon that teaching is the job that’s most similar to stand-up comedy.”

After spending so much time thinking about what I wouldn’t say to her, now that I was talking to her, I realised my time would have been better spent thinking about what I would say to her.

I managed to ask her whether teaching and stand-up comedy were so similar because of all the hecklers, which is almost a joke, if you think about it. She said that actually it was to do with having to think on your feet and having to get all the people in the room to like you (an interesting teaching strategy – must try it some time).

Anyway, now that she’d said that my job was similar to hers, how could I resist? “I promised myself I’d never say this to a stand-up comedian,” I began, “But I reckon I could be a stand-up comedian…”

We were interrupted at this point by the other comic who started an in-depth conversation with her. As Ella and I were about to leave anyway, I realised that I wouldn’t get the chance to tell her a joke.

I also wondered what sort of impression I’d made on her from our brief encounter. I wonder whether anyone has ever used the phrase “I promised myself I’d never say this to a stand-up comedian” before. What kind of person goes around making such promises to themselves?

I kind of hovered for a bit, hoping to be able to explain myself, but that would have made me seem even more stupid, so I waved and departed.

If you wanted to prove to a stand-up comedian that you were capable of doing her job, what joke would you tell her?