The Time I Brought a Date to a Comedy Show and She Turned out to be a Heckler

This was quite a few years ago, back when I was pretty new to New Orleans and unsure of my path in the world. Back then, I was dabbling in stand up open mics and improv lessons because I couldn’t get enough of masturbation jokes or awkward imagined scenarios between two people that no one enjoys. Anyway, when I wasn’t doing any of that, I was going on really, really bad online dates.   

Good times. 

And it was during this time that I met a certain girl on OkCupid. Let’s call her Terri- because that was her actual name and she’s a terrible person and doesn’t deserve anonymity (jk, that’s not her real name. But boy was I tempted…). Anyway, Terri and I matched, which, to be honest surprised me because she was terribly attractive and I was in the middle of a real slump in my love life. 

I also found it surprising because she was exactly the kind of person who normally wouldn’t like a guy like me. She was your classic “cool New York City-Hipster type” chick complete with the horn-rimmed glasses, the mousey face, the short straight hair with that one streak of dye in it,  and the everything-kind-of-bores-me attitude that was evident in her profile answers and facial expressions. Usually my loud and overly friendly ways don’t mesh well with these kinds of girls.   

Yet she seemed to like me. At least, she kept responding to my questions, and even asking a few of her own, which seemed like a huge win for me. Looking back on it now, it makes me both happy and sad to realize that at the time I never once asked myself if there was anything I liked about her besides her looks. This makes me happy because it shows how much I’ve grown since then, as that would be the first thing I would consider today. And it makes me sad because well, damn past Randy have some self-respect and don’t be so shallow!   

Anyway, after a few days of messaging, I suggested we meet up in person. She reluctantly agreed, but only if we went somewhere ‘different’ and ‘alluring’ and not some ‘basic dive bar crap’, in her words. Different and alluring? Oh boy, what did I know about different and alluring? 

But then a light bulb went off in my head. What’s more different and alluring than a comedy show?! (to answer that question today, I would say many, many things…) 

Anyway, it was really the only card I could play, as it was the only world I knew in the city.

Hesitantly, she agreed, although not before admitting she really didn’t “get comedy”. I’m not sure if there is a bigger red flag for an aspiring comedian than a date telling them they “don’t get comedy”, but at the time I thought I had this in the bag. The way I saw things playing out, she would open her eyes to the true power of comedy during our date, and then see me as some sort of comedic prophet by proxy and her hands would soon be all over me and all would be great. 

Full proof plan.

Fast forward to the big night, where twenty minutes before we were supposed to meet up I was frantically searching my closet for something to wear thirty minutes before the date because I had suddenly decided everything I owned was absolute trash (this was not an uncommon habit of mine back in the day). And as I was just tearing through a pile of every article of clothing I had, I heard an odd pitter-pat coming from outside my window. I peaked through the curtains to find to my horror that what was once a peaceful clear sky night has turned into a storm of epic proportions (that’s the south for you). With torrential downpour wreaking havoc on the streets outside and I watched my glorious date night dying before it has even started. 

As if on cue, I get a message from Terri.

Hey I don’t really drive in the rain. Maybe we should postpone…

No! I immediately thought. This was my chance to impress someone with my relatively unimpressive comedy connections. It had to happen tonight or it would never happen at all. As suave as possible I told her that would be fine, but also, I could just swing by her place and pick her up (keep in mind, this was like a year before Uber was a thing). A few minutes pass before she replied. 

Okay, that’ll work, and sent me her address.    

Yes! Success! No fucking storm was gonna ruin my big date night. 

After managing to find an outfit I found decent, I jumped into my Honda Accord and made my way to the Bywater while thinking about some clever quips I might be able to use for the date. 

Twenty minutes later, I arrived in front of her place and send her a text. She replied saying she’ll be right down. A calm came over me now, as if my body, mind and soul realized my destiny was just about to start, and soon all my nights would be filled with romantic interludes with this pretty New York hipster. This calm lasted all of two minutes, before she came running through the rain, hops in my car, turned to me and said:

“Hey, I hope you don’t mind, my friends are coming too.” 

Note that she did not in fact ask me if it would be ok if her friends could come too, but that they were, in fact, coming, period. All the same, I answered the question that was never asked. 

“Yeah, okay, I guess that’s fine…” 

 My back door swung open and her friends jump in all with drinks in their hands, all talking loudly to each other like they just jumped into a cab. 

(when I’ve told this story in the past, especially to women, they usually stop me right here and say, “Yeah, but as a woman I could see why she wouldn’t want to just jump into a stranger’s car by herself.” 

And yeah, I totally agree with that. It’s what happens next I have a problem with). 

“Let’s fucking go!” one of them shouted.

“Hell ya!” the other shouted, and then the car turns into one long stream of consciousness that I don’t really participate in.   

Outside, the rain is pouring down harder than ever. 

Not knowing what else to do, I assumed my role as the nameless driver, took my foot off the brake and accelerate toward my destiny. 

On the car ride there, I did my best to play it cool, acting like this is exactly how I saw things playing out. Inside, I was just trying to wrap my mind around the fact that the hot date I’d been looking forward to all day had suddenly morphed into… a hipster car party. But of course I remained silent as there’s still that small, foolish piece of me that still hopes that the night could end up my way if I just play it cool. 

“…so, how do you guys know each other?” I asked my date and her uninvited friends. 

“We all met under a bridge one night,” the lady in the back giggled. 

“Yeah, we’re all just a bunch of fucking trolls,” the other laughed. 

I can feel myself growing hot under my collar. Was I really gonna let myself get disrespected like this? 

“Cool,” I fake chuckled along, “I’ve met some friends that way too.” 

This is the only part of the car ride that’s silent, as they all make sure to let me know they don’t laugh at my jokes, only their own. 

Just stop the car and kick them out, I told myself while doing just the opposite. 

The drive to the show went on like this for another brutal five minutes. When we neared the venue though, a horrifying thought hit me, and I realized I have to absolutely clarify something before we all go inside. 

After impressively completing a tight parallel parking job in the heavy rain, I sternly told Terri to shut the door just as she had opened it. She looked at me like she can’t believe I asked her this, but does as I say. 

“Look, there is something you all have to understand. This is my scene. I do shows with these people, I work with them, I see them all the time. You all CANNOT embarrass me. You can’t be loud during the show or really talk, especially when the comics are performing. You gotta be cool.”

I watched each one look at each other and act as if this is the craziest thing I could ever say, like why would they ever behave embarrassingly during a comedy show?

A ting of guilt hit me here, like maybe I judged them too quickly based on a five minute pre-show drive. 

“I’m just sayin’,” I clarified, “I would tell anyone this. I just need to be clear.”
They all nod their heads and assure me they will be the picture of high class as soon as the show started. 

Ten minutes later, things seem to be going well. The host of the show- who was a well-known, and well liked member of the scene- smiled broadly when he sees me, shook my hand and seemed genuinely happy to see me. Terri was a hard person to read, but I knew if I was on date with someone and the comedy host welcomed them personally to the show I would be impressed.    

After we ordered our drinks at the bar, we managed to secure a good row of seats close to the stage. My poor naive mind could not imagine this going wrong. 

The show began with the host welcoming the crowd before going on a quick rant about the useless mayor of the city. 

I can’t say I actually remember any of the jokes to this day, but I remember enjoying them, chuckling along. I even remember thinking this was gonna end up going great for me.

And then I heard something that made my intestines wrap themselves around my heart. The three friends my date had brought were talking amongst themselves, and not quietly either. And they seemed to be growing louder and louder. Arguing about their drinks or something, completely unrelated to the comedy on the stage. 

I pretended I didn’t hear them at first, praying they’ll remember they are at a show and shut the hell up. But they didn’t. And now the host was glancing over at them in annoyance. They weren’t loud enough for him to stop the show and go after them, but I knew that was only seconds away from changing. And I also knew that, like most comedians, when he was forced to pause the show to shut people up, he wasn’t polite about it. At all.

“Shh!” I shushed, “be quiet.” 

Mercifully, this worked, although all four of them- yes, Terri included- shot death stares at me like I was the monster for shushing them. 

A few minutes later, her friends were at it again. And this time, before I could do anything, the host stopped mid-sentence and just stared. I would have assumed he would have started mocking them, but somehow this silent treatment was much worse. I feel like the whole crowd is staring at us. Even worse, the host quickly shot me a dark glance, as if to say, “why the fuck did you brings these guys here?”  

Great question, I realized, really, really good question.  

The friends did quiet down again though, thankfully. 

The host continued his intro, and because I had attended this show more than a few times, I know he had a number of more bits to go through before he introduces the first comic of the night. I don’t know why, but for some reason I was positive that if we could just get to that first performer without incident, it would be smooth sailing from there. I couldn’t tell you why I believed this, but I did. And I was praying so much for this that I had stopped actually listening to the host perform. I heard no words until I hear my date shout: 

“That’s not true at all!”

To this day I still don’t know exactly what the host had said that made her shout this out, but I do know at the time he was going off on the traffic of the city, so it couldn’t have been too vicious. 

I will never forget watching the host’s eyes grow wide as these heckling words echoed throughout the room, and I knew everything was about to change in the worst way. 

“Oh, looks like someone with entitlement issues has something they need to say.”

Out of instinct, I grabbed my date’s hand in an attempt to get her not to respond. Shockingly enough, this did not work. 

“It has nothing to do with entitlement,” she shot back, “it has to do with the fact that you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Please stop, I prayed. For the love of God, stop.

“I’m sorry, did I say ‘someone with entitlement issues’? My apologies, I meant to say, ‘some piece shit asshole won’t shut the fuck up because they are a piece of shit asshole’, is that better?”

Of course, the whole crowd went wild for this, while my date grew ever more enraged.  

“How dare you! You can’t just-”

Amazingly enough though, the host was able to quiet her now with just a stern finger pointed at her. He spoke in loud, and slowly, carefully enunciating words. 

“You. Should. Not. Be. Talking. Now. That guy next to you,” he pointed at me now and I felt my insides die , “he’s a cool guy, we like him. But you are making him look really bad. So be quiet or leave.”

So, they left. All four of them. Without ever looking back at me. For the briefest of seconds, I considered chasing after them, after her, chasing after that dream of a date that was never a reality. But I knew I couldn’t do that. For as bad as all that had been, the host had publicly said he liked me. Even better, he said we like him. The comedy community. Which seemed to be the exact opposite of how the New York hipster, or her friends, felt about me. And when i stopped to think about it, I didn’t like them either. In fact, I kinda hated them.

 So I stayed.

I won’t lie to you, I didn’t really absorb any of the rest of the show. Instead, I couldn’t help but think about how a night that seemed so promising had devolved into such shit almost immediately. 

And I also couldn’t help but agree with what Terri had texted me a few days earlier. She really didn’t get comedy.