How'd My Second SHow Go? Not So Good

You know that nightmare some of you may have where you're onstage or in a boardroom, or wherever, and you're unable to speak while dozens of people watch you sweat and stammer?

Well, I had that nightmare Saturday night.

Except I wasn't sleeping.

I was onstage.

Yup, IT happened. Every comic's worst fear (no, not being hit on by Roseanne) was realized when one minute into my set, I froze. Totally incapable to remembering any of the rest of my act, I stood there for at least a minute and a half, trying to say something (anything!) while also trying to remember something (anything!) from my act.

I say "at least" a minute and a half, because I could've sworn it was four hours, but others present claim it was a minute. I have yet to view the tape because my VCR is broken (just not my weekend), but that's probably for the best as I could've seen me sitting on the floor all day Sunday, with my knees on my chest, rocking back and forth.

The ironic thing is that one of the producers told me that since I brought so many people that I was able to spend more time than normal on stage. If I were on any longer than I was, I may've electrocuted myself with the sweat that was dripping onto my microphone.

Everyone afterwards (friends and comics) told me afterwards how I recovered so well, but in truth, I would've had to walk off the stage if it weren't for Bronwen, who started shouting out my own bits to me.
"Where do you work?"
"Do you have a dog?"

I'm serious. (Thanks Bronwen.)

Even then, I was so flustered that I ran through them as if there was a buffet waiting me backstage.

The only person laughing during my set was my bro, and that was when I went blank. In fact, I don't think he was happier when his own baby was born. It was like the penultimate scene from Carrie. After the show, he took my tape from me for safekeeping, till I assumed him I wouldn't him it.

After going out to celebrate, I went home to cry myself to sleep. I woke up the next day to the sounds of my own screaming.

So anyway, thanks to all that came (all 28 - jeez!) of you...and I know you'll all disappointed (esp Rich) when I say this, but that's all for me. If it were fun, I'd do it again, but my extreme nervousness (including, but not limited to, shortness of breath, tingling sensation in my back, frozen extremities, profuse sweating, etc) makes it dumb and even perhaps detrimental to my health to continue.

If you'll excuse me, I've got some spreadsheets to fill with numbers.

Rock On,

Aitch