(Comedy) Walk of Shame…(or, Why I need a mute button)

Ok, so sometimes I screw up. I make a tremendous ass out of myself, and generally when I do this, it’s in a very public manner.

Yesterday was an epic example of this.

Last night I was asked to guest on a podcast to help promote the comedy show I’m performing in tonight. It was my first podcast, and I wanted to help out my friend that arranged the show tonight.

I didn’t know what to expect when I walked into the recording studio. The host introduced himself to us and offered us food and drink. My friend casually asked him how large the listening audience was. I was expecting a smaller number, like a few hundred. The host casually answered that the last podcast had sixteen thousand listeners.


I could feel my anxiety attack starting. I tried to slow my breathing…too late.

We sat at our microphones and the host began asking us questions about our lives…I opened my mouth and verbal diarrhea came out. I entered a fugue state…I was rambling…they all began staring at me…which only made me more nervous…I began rambling even more…it was awful…we cut to a music break and I discovered that there was a person standing behind me–the reason (partly) for some of the stares. SHIT.

I became even more nervous…I started talking about my family…and for some reason told the story of how my “Marital Aid” was mistaken for a possible bomb by TSA at the airport–in front of my children–and taken out of my suitcase–in front of my children–all of this for an audience of possibly SIXTEEN THOUSAND PEOPLE. My husband will be so proud.

At one point we switched to a trivia contest…names were tossed about…my mind went completely BLANK… I tried to punt… I was clearly sounding like the village idiot…AWESOME….

I’m fairly certain that I am now a comedy pariah and my friend is wishing like hell he hadn’t asked me to be on his show tonight.


So tonight, instead of hiding under my covers, crying into fists of tissue, continuously reliving every horrible moment of my public humiliation, I am going to pull myself up and just deliver it on stage.

Someday we will all laugh about this.


For now, just learn from my mistakes. Be prepared. Don’t take “Marital Aids” with cords and batteries in your carry on bags. Possibly bring a public relations handler with you if you are prone to attacks of verbal diarrhea in public.  Pick yourself up and keep fighting the good fight.

Peace all.

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