 A couple of years ago I accidentally became a cruise ship comedian. I never wanted to be one. Most of them are regarded with disdain by other comedians. Being a comedian that only plays cruise ships is like being a musician that only plays elevators.
A cruise line was looking for new talent so they had a comedy contest. The judges at said contest happened to be owners and bookers of several really good comedy clubs. I wanted to play at these clubs so I entered the contest.
Before the show, we were strongly encouraged to do a clean show, as that would be what was expected of us on cruise ships. I didn't want to play the cruise ships, so I elected to go dirty in the hopes that I would curry the favor of the club owners. I did a bit about my wife sticking a finger in my butt and the crowd loved it.
I wound up winning the damn thing and the guy from the cruise ship company came up to me after they announced that I had won.
Him: Can you be clean?
Me: Yes?
Him: You're going to be performing on our cruises. Can you be really clean?
Me: Um... yes?
I found out later that by "clean" he meant that there are jokes that
I could do on primetime network television that I couldn't do on the
ships.
I was flown down to Florida to get on a ship that I would be
performing on. I was introduced to the cruise director and shown to my
cabin. Guests on a cruise ship usually get a very nice room on the
ship. Something with a window overlooking the ocean. Not the comedian.
I stayed in a room below sea level. I was so low in the ship that when
I woke up there were barnacles on my pillow.
I was scheduled to perform my first night at sea and it had all the
makings of a fantastic show. It was on a huge stage with an audience of
1200 people. There was an 18-piece orchestra that played the Tonight
Show Theme when I was introduced. The crowd was in a great mood. They
were on vacation, they were on a cruise, they were drunk and ready to
laugh. Then something happened...
I started to bomb.
I looked out at the faces in the crowd and I saw children. Children
at a comedy show! And there were the elderly, sitting with their
wrinkly arms folded, just staring at me. I began to panic and realized
that these were two groups of people that I had never really performed
for in my life. I spent my entire career learning how to make drunk
adults laugh and here were children and sober old people.
Believe me, there is nothing as loud as the silence of 1200 people
not laughing. Ordinarily in this situation, I would go charging right
for a litany of dick jokes. Not an option here.
I closed weakly and said goodnight. They applauded uncomfortably and the band began to ironically play the Tonight Show Theme.
My first show on a ship and I had eaten a dick onstage. I felt awful
and after the show I apologized profusely to the cruise director.
Me: Listen, I'm really sorry. I don't know what went wrong.
Him: Sorry for what?
Me: Well... they didn't laugh.
Him: Don't worry about it. At least you didn't offend them.
Me: So I'm not fired?
Him: We don't care if you're not funny, as long as you don't offend anyone.
That's when it hit me. I'm out of my element. Everything is backward. Up is down and Cagney is Lacey.
In a comedy club, it's okay if you offend the crowd, as long as
you're funny when you do it. On a cruise ship, just don't offend
anyone's fragile sensibilities and you can suck like an Ernest Goes
movie and you're fine.
I slunk back to my cabin and changed out of my suit. I felt terrible
and needed a drink something awful. That's when I discovered the
Happiest Place on The Ship. The Crew Bar.
Most of the guests on a cruise ships never get to see this place.
They're relegated to the 8 dollar drinks at the Bourbon Street-themed
crap fest on the Lido Deck.
The crew bar sells drinks for 75 cents and there are crew members
from all over the world. They are young, drunk and giddy, and they fuck
each other nightly, with reckless abandon. I mean it. At Last Call, they
all do their best to figure out who's going back to whose cabin to
screw the night away. Young, beautiful, Norwegian ship's nurses going
to the cabins of young, handsome ship's stewards from Canada.
As I had made the Promise to Politely Decline Offers of Sex From
Anyone Who Is Not My Wife, Forevermore, I could only watch with awe and
jealous rage.
The only problem I had with the crew bar was that they don't serve
shots. Apparently they don't want their staff getting too totally
soused, so they made the rule that cocktails and beer are on the menu,
but no straight liquor.
It went down like this...
Me: Hi. Can I please have a shot of tequila?
Bartender: No, we don't serve shots at this bar.
Me: Really? Oh. Can I have a margarita?
Bartender: Right away.
Me: Oh, wait. I don't want any ice.
Bartender: No problem.
Me: Oh! Can you hold the sweet & sour and the Triple Sec?
Bartender: Yes sir. (pours a shot of tequila) Here you are, sir. That'll be 75 cents.
Me: Here's a five. Keep it. (Drinks shot.)
Bartender: Thank you, sir! (pauses) Heyyyy, wait a minute!
The upshot of the whole experience, aside from the money, which was
fantastic, was getting off the boat and flying home. I sat in an
airport bar on the island of Saint Maarten, drinking cocktails, and
staring out the window at the most beautiful beach I've ever seen. The
sand was so white and the water was so blue that I can't describe it in
words.
To give you any idea of how beautiful this beach was, I could see Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman restoring an old boat.
I think it's best if I keep the comedy on dry land.
|
Quirkee Voices 
(0 vote)
