I bombed for the first time last night, a painful and humiliating experience. Joke after joke falling into a silent crowd, drowning in their disapproving ears, a sea of moral high ground as my off colour jokes flagged their arms in the air to alert me that they could not swim.
As a result of this massive dent in my ego, I had to ditch about 60% of my material for the show I had the night after. The plan was to keep the same jokes, it takes me a long time to learn all my lines for a gig, but now, the whole routine had to change, and I only had one afternoon.
I went into the Balloon shop on Mitchell Road in the hopes that they could sell me a scroll that I could write my jokes on, thus keeping in character (A Victorian Era Prince) and have something that I could refer to in times of memory blanks.
I walked into the unmissable building, (Unmissable due to the fact that it's painted bright blue) the place is full of costumes, plastic table clothes, novelty toys and party supplies, and by the name alone, I deduce that it deals in balloons as well.
When I entered, it took a while for the lady to come out of the back room, but when she did, she was extremely helpful, and took it upon herself to figure out what I needed and how she could help me obtain it.
Unfortunately, she couldn't, but points for trying. read more