DEBRIEFING: Tonight’s show at The Standard.
Tonight was a last-minute blast of a show.
Story was, Eric Toms (LA comic, nice guy) needed a fifteen minute set at The Standard on Sunset on two hours notice. (You might recognize The Standard as the hotel Brad Pitt’s character owned in Ocean’s 12). I happened to be free and hadn’t been on stage in a few weeks (rare for me), so the offer was too convenient to refuse.
Turns out, it was the first comedy show ever at that hotel. It went well and I hope they keep doing them.
The audience of roughly seventy was mostly female, and they turned it on tonight. The Standard has a knack for that specific Sunset Blvd commodity. I’ll bet there was not one pubic hair in the whole front row. We’ll simply say they all probably watch a lot of The Hills.
Groups of hot girls in the front row are gifts to comedians from the laughter gods. Not that I’ll make fun of them, necessarily, but their obvious presence makes controlling the rest of the room simpler. When hot girls laugh and everyone sees them (which the lit front row provides), a social permission for more laughter is achieved. The guys in the room mustn’t be seen disliking the Hot Girl’s Interests, so they laugh in a way that lets us know that they too thought that was funny. Good or bad, hot girls lead laughter, and I choreograph an audience mating dance. It’s fractal — zoom in on one girl, zoom out to observe the effects on the room.
Equally noteworthy: where they saw a Girl’s Night Out, I saw ‘Fuck The Poor’ Night. Those were a lot of gaddammed cosmo’s for a recession, ladies.