Last night was thought to be the 10th anniversary of the Star Bar Comedy Show, but original owner Jim Stacy was present and corrected Rotknee, that it was actually year 11. Stacy had a god mic, “just like old times,” and interrupted comics during our sets. Fun nightmare to deal with. I moved to Atlanta two years ago today, April 1, and I don’t feel like writing a big thing about how special it is, so that must mean it’s home now. But I do love it.
photos by oliviacathcart
Last night, I helped my roommate, Brian, write roast jokes for the post-wedding roast of our comic-friend, the groom. I was originally supposed to be on the show and had to drop out for real life stuff, but I actually have zero regrets about not doing a set myself.
Brian brought back a recording of his set, and yep, I like doing well via a surrogate comedian. Completely fulfilled, expression-wise, but I do wish I had been there to feel the room. He did great. That’s the other part. Hearing him lean into and succeed with jokes we worked over long enough for him to be just beyond confident was gratifying, and hearing the choices he made to make jokes land right made me appreciate him on a different level.
Writing for someone else’s voice is a fun puzzle, where you realize stuff like, “Oh, you’d never say ‘cool it,’ that’d be a tell,” and have to rewrite to make sure it falls out of their mouth comfortably. There’s a weird thrill in hearing people laugh at something they have no idea you helped create. I just loved every step of that process.