One of the many comedy rooms that never returned post-Covid was called the Hollywood Hotel. It was a classic “shout into the void” kind of room. Mostly comics, mostly trying out new stuff. Occasional tourists coming down to watch, either not knowing or not caring that they were watching the dregs of LA’s comedy scene. The drinks were strong and the bartender seemed indifferent. Gust would serve you, tell you how to sign up for the open mic, offer up some idle bartender chit-chat, but usually he would spend most of his time in the stock room behind the bar, practicing the trumpet. If you were bombing, you could hear it. Which means a lot of the time you were at that mic, you could hear it. God, I miss that room.
In addition to open mics, the Hollywood Hotel also hosted proper booked shows on the weekends. A guy named John I met somewhere in the scene – likely at one of my door guy jobs – began to run a pretty decent monthly there. He asked me if I would be down to be the regular host. I took him up on the offer, because I love hosting.
Most comics do not love hosting. It’s a specific skillset, different from just telling jokes and getting the fuck out of there. You have to be comfortable doing a little crowd work, reading people, and paying attention. You should have jokes in your arsenal that run the gamut topically, because you need to be able to get the crowd on board with being a crowd at a comedy show, and sometimes that means tweaking jokes to their liking a bit. Plus, after your set, you have to maintain the energy of the room, trying your best to keep it from dropping into the doldrums. If someone does great, keep it moving. If someone ends on a weird note, get the crowd laughing again, then on to the next comic. You’re more than a comic; you’re a conductor.1
This show was generally really fun and good. John had good taste in comics. The ones on his lineups were funny and easy to work with, which is a needle that can be tough to thread. We worked together for quite a while, even after one particularly disastrous show that remains etched in my memory.
One night, things were not going well down there in the basement. This was maybe four shows into our tenure at Hollywood Hotel, so we were probably due for a bad one.2 My set did not go great, and neither did anyone else’s. The show was so bad that all we could do about it was laugh in the back of the room by the bar, hoping for Gust to play us off.
We watched comic after comic go up with material we knew was tried-and-true, then bomb their asses off with it. And we couldn’t figure out why. We just laughed off the flop sweat and thought “well at least we’ve finally hit rock bottom.”
Then, an older Black man, looking dapper in a leisure suit, strolled into the bar and approached me. He introduced himself as Fancy Ray, a comic who was in town from Minneapolis. He saw there was a comedy show happening and was wondering, could he do some time? I told him since it wasn’t my show, I’d have to check with the producer. I walked over to John and asked what he thought.
Our combined opinion was basically “well the show can’t get any worse, why not play this wild card?” I told Fancy Ray that he got the go-ahead and I would put him up shortly.
When I asked for his credits, he said “the best lookin’ man in comedy,” which is a hell of a credit. I introduced him as a special drop-in, the best lookin’ man in comedy, make some noise! Then he took the stage – really just a mic stand in front of a step-and-repeat featuring the hotel’s logo – and got things going.
Fancy Ray turned out to be exactly what the room needed. He had them in the palm of his hand from almost the very beginning, and killed in the way we’d all been trying to. It was inexplicable and delightful. All of us comics were awestruck in the back, jaws on the floor while watching Fancy Ray pull the comedy sword out of the stone-faced crowd. I don’t remember a single one of his jokes, but there were probably a few of these peppered in there. It was one of those sets that was so good, you don’t remember the jokes – you just remember the way you felt watching it. And more than elation, more than awe, more than inspiration, I felt relief.
We had a few comics left after that, but Fancy Ray didn’t stick around for much longer. I think I hugged him before he left, or at least gave him an extremely hearty handshake. I honestly don’t remember. But I did thank him profusely. The amount of energetic confidence that Fancy Ray blessed that room with that night was all we needed in the end. And as quickly as he came, he strolled back off into the night, to do whatever minor miracle Fancy Ray was off to do next.
On a completely separate note: readers, I have some good news, and some news that you will probably be indifferent to but that I feel like you should be informed of!
The good news is that WRONG! has officially been given a monthly slot at the Comedy Store! Starting in April, we’ll be in the Belly Room on the fourth Monday of every month.3 I’d always envisioned the Store as the ideal spot for the show and it's very exciting that we’ve finally been able to work something out. Hooray!
The news you will probably feel indifferent about but that I’m going to inform you about anyway is that due to this new announcement, I will be moving my scheduled public posts to first and third Tuesdays instead. It's so new, this scheduling thing, so why not make a slight tweak while the calendar clay has yet to be fired in the kiln of life?
Trust me, this’ll be better for everyone. I don't want to be slammed working on pushing a post out the day after a WRONG! show, especially because my brain will always be in WRONG! territory the day after a show, and I don't want to be working from that frame of mind while trying to write the Log. Keeping WRONG! from bleeding into this will be great for y’all, and more ideal for me.
Anyways, that’s it. Thanks for reading. Go watch some Fancy Ray.
Hint hint to any comics reading this who hate hosting – feel free to drop me a line.
I realize this might be fallacious, but I am a gambler, so I love me a little gambler’s fallacy.
Tickets will be up soon – one of the many things on my to-do list.