We took the first weekend off before a run of five shows in six days. Despite many visits to the Comedy Cellar venues, particularly the Fat Black Pussycat Lounge, I had never actually attended a show in the Pussycat Bar. The last time I had taken a look at it, the layout of seats was a bit regimented.
You check in at the entrance to the Village Underground and then head back onto the pavement and enter through the bar's usual door on the street. After the standard placing of mobile phones into sealed bags we were led in past the actual bar that remains in place, through some curtains and into the performance space. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the seating has been changed into a tight semi-circle round the small stage.
The show started slowly with the host rather charmless and the first act really struggling, similar to the last time I saw him. Dan Soder was up next and was effortlessly funny. Lenny Marcus has a cynical, world-weary charm to him and Nathan McIntosh was solid. The star of the show was Caitlin Peluffo, as she often is these days.
Both the FBPC bar and its adjoining lounge are good spaces for seeing comedy. When you factor in that the majority of the beers are in the $6/7 area, it's hard to see past these two venues when considering where you want to consume your standup.
Tuesday night was Union Hall in Park Slope (Brooklyn). I'd been there once before (a Judah Friedlander show the day Trump was elected - that dates it rather specifically) but I wasn't aware of quite how much comedy they put on per week. This was a monthly event called Pretty Major in conjunction with Vulture Magazine, supposedly highlighting up-and-coming talent. Jay Jurden, who I like, was co-hosting with Vulture-tipped Zach Zimmerman. Eagle Witt was also on the bill and there was no known poison. Also in its favour was that the entire venue is quite charismatic and the bar has a good happy hour running right up until the venue doors open.
The show started late, as far as I could tell, because Jay didn't arrive till 7:45pm. There was then some inept and awkward to and fro between him and Zach. I'm coming to the conclusion that co-hosting should never happen. At its very best, when the hosts have a chemistry, it can be adequate. This was not as good as that. By the time they'd finished dicking around we'd been sitting on our uncomfortable seats for an hour. The rest of the show went less well. Eagle Witt did reasonably but there was one performer who was such an uncomfortable watch I feel that I should create a new category for her in my database of comics. I'm shivering at the thought of it.
Wednesday was to be our first visit to Ambush's new location at EBBS Brewery tap room in Williamsburg. Over the years I've seen lots of good stuff at Ambush. Their policy of a free show and a free beer of your choice, later transitioning to a free can of Miller Lite, was hard to find fault with. They had become a victim of their own success slightly as their original location (the back room of a Two Boots Pizza) did not cope well with large crowds. The lineup at EBBS was mainly untried but we were determined to give it a go.
Arriving not long after the theoretical doors opening time we found the place to be absolutely mobbed. We did manage to get reasonable seats and I approached the bar, resigned to the fact that the advertised "free beer for the first 24" would be a distant memory. "Nah, there's a few left - not everyone seems to know about it" was the barman's response. When a couple vacated their bar seats we grabbed them and at this point, all seemed good with the world. We had an improved view of the stage, a free beer and were in a prime spot to access more beer. Game on.
The host, Dwayne Collins, was new to me but did decently. After that, things went into a bit of a decline. Tracy McClendon, who sounds Scottish but definitely isn't, was one bright moment but apart from that, it was a struggle. With just two acts to go and the next being one we have particular problems with, we made for the exit. My tolerance for bad comedy is almost limitless but girlfriend is not in the same category.
I crap on about a show called Monday Night Mob that takes place weekly at Stand Up NY on the upper west side. The guys who organise that have secured a similar Friday night slot at a new club called Rodney's on the upper east side. Originally called Dangerfield's, the venue ran from 1969 to 2020 but reopened in its new incarnation in December 2023. This was ideal. The chance to attend the first night of the new show, at a club I'd never been to and the start time (6pm) was sufficiently early that we could still do stuff after! I secured free tickets then remembered that we'd bought tickets for Sesh Comedy's new, bigger room down in Chinatown and there was no way that we could do the Mob show, get food and still make it to Sesh on time. Damn.
We'd been to Sesh's original space just a few blocks away in September. Their offering is an intriguing one. It's a comedian-run endeavour in a somewhat basic room with low ticket prices, BYOB and no lineups published in advance. The new room is a step up in terms of size and facilities - think a mid-level Edinburgh Fringe venue. We found some seats that would facilitate an easy escape if necessary, opened our bottle of screw-cap red wine and settled in.
While our first visit to Sesh had been an almost complete success with only a couple of failures, this was the reverse. Yedoye Travis was a reasonable new find and Jourdain Fisher did OK but apart from that, it was another disappointment. That's three poor nights of comedy in a row someone who I love deeply pointed out to me.
Saturday was the last of the block of five shows. Flophouse Comedy is a comedian-operated venture, running low-cost, BYOB shows in a slightly makeshift venue. Are you spotting a pattern? They are pretty new, running their first gigs from a permanent base in December 2023. One key differentiator from Sesh's offering is that Flophouse publish a lineup in advance. There was one comedian listed that we struggle with but to counter that Matthew Broussard was billed, who is decent, and Monroe Martin was on, who is a complete treat to watch.
More screwcap red was purchased and we made our way to Grand Street in Williamsburg, almost down to the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. The entrance definitely has a endearing, improvised feel about it. A quick chat at check-in revealed that their BYOB policy was temporary and that a bar would be introduced imminently. The performance space is small, maybe 50 seats, and feels similar to the room 7th Street Comedy operated out of until recently.
I'll cut to the chase and reveal that it was another disaster. The two acts that we were keen to see, Matthew and Monroe, were no-shows, but the act that we were concerned about inevitably feckin made it. The only glimmer of interest was a girl called (I think) Brigid Geiran who had an odd, slow rhythm to her delivery. I'm aware that lineups can change but when all the acts you're looking forward fail to appear and there are no replacements of approximately similar quality, it's hard not to feel a little short-changed.
Four days after we got back, Flophouse sent out an email confirming that they could now sell alcohol and revealing that Hannibal Burress had dropped in. For a long time he performed at the nearby Knitting Factory, now closed, so has a connection with the area. I'm glad the people at that show saw someone decent. [Aside: I am actually resentful]
On Sunday afternoon girlfriend was off to a terrible play so I had some spare time. I could go and watch an open-mic at St Mark's Comedy Club for a bit and still meet her after her theatrical disaster. I had been to a show many years ago in the same space. It used to be a vegan restaurant called V-spot that had comedy occasionally in their backroom. The restaurant has gone but the comedy remains and is now run a bit more rigorously with ticketed, paid shows each weekend. My preference for open-mics is ones I can slip in and out of quietly, at times of my own choosing and where I'm not asked to buy a bottle of Heineken for $10 (plus tax plus tip). Here there was a requirement to purchase one item, even for non-comics, which always strikes me as a bit cheeky. Normal people in the crowd vastly improves the value of an open-mic. Otherwise, it's just an audience of comics, staring at their notes and occasionally half grunting when they hear a bit that they recognise as solid.
I queued up to get in. Really? A queue for an open-mic? The delay was down to someone seating each arrival. This was already more fuss that I was comfortable with. I looked at the laminated drinks list and realised that with no bar in sight, these would be bottles. Corona, Heineken and Brooklyn Lager for $9 each. Did I want to spend £8.45 on a bottle of beer I don't like? No, was the resounding answer.
The week often starts with the previously-mentioned Monday Night Mob and might include Frantic at the Stand after that if I'm feeling energetic. I had mentally pencilled in the former and was left a little non-plussed when I realised it wasn't resuming until the following week. There used to be (and in fact still is) a sort of open-mic/scrappy venue in Greenwich Village called the Grisly Pear. I'd noticed that they'd spruced themselves up into something approaching a proper comedy venue (targeting the over-spill from the nearby Cellar) and then gone even further and opened a second location in Midtown. I was vaguely curious about the new venue and when I saw free tickets offered for a show including Aaron Berg, I figured it was worth the risk.
After securing the ticket I read a bit more about the show. It wasn't entirely obvious when it would start (and as I was going solo on this 30 minutes early is a LONG time to wait) and it transpired that there was, as is nearly always the case, a two drink minimum. As we were out and about late afternoon, we decided to call into the venue, maybe make use of their happy hour and try to ascertain if it was going to be worth my time later. The room isn't horrific and maybe I'm just getting old but I decided that visiting the Stand was a much safer bet than spending two hours of my life at the Grisly Pear Midtown.
I breezed into the Stand about 9:59pm, bought my pint upstairs (better choice of drafts) and headed downstairs to be met by manager Joe Harary. "Just you?" he asked. He always seems much more pleased to see my girlfriend than me, inexplicably. I promised we'd both be back the following night for the 8pm and he waved me to sit wherever. Aaron co-hosted with Max Manticof, which basically meant Aaron hosted and brought Max into the conversation occasionally. "What's the deal with this lot?" queried Aaron, pointing to a table of unfortunates. "He looks like you but not on roids" returned Max.
I lasted about an hour. Oscar Aydin was good but the audience seemed unsure about him. Brennan Tasseff was new to me (he's from Florida) but I'd happily watch him again and there were one of two misses. For the cost of a pint it was worth the effort of going out in the cold.
The Tuesday 8pm show was a cracking lineup. Mark Normand, Sean Patton, Shane Gillis, Emma Willmann, Ian Lara, Paul Virzi and JC Mendoza. JC was the only one I wasn't familiar with but he hosted adequately. Sean and Shane were the first two on and you could argue we'd already had our money's worth when they finished. Emma maybe isn't turning over material as quickly as she should but was still enjoyable and Ian was excellent. Paul was replaced by someone forgettable and Mark closed out the show brilliantly.
Oddly afterwards Mark was shaking hands and taking photos. This is very unusual behaviour for him. He doesn't even look at the audience when he's performing, he stares over their heads. He's the last person I'd expect to be comfortable in that role. I thanked him for the show and called him "a cunt". It seemed the right thing to do. As we headed for the exit we saw Sean sitting quietly at the bar. We both told him how much we enjoyed his set and he shook our hands firmly. I thought about telling him that he had my review on his poster a few Edinburghs back, but as he had stated at the time that he was struggling for quotes, this didn't really seem like a topic worth reminiscing over.
On Wednesday I was ending as I started, at the Fat Black Pussycat Bar. The main attraction was Brad Williams but Jeff Arcuri and Maddie Wiener were also on the bill, as was Chris Turner who is always efficiently entertaining. I got allocated a kind of shitty seat (after me praising the new layout earlier) close to but almost behind the performer. The host did solidly and the first act, who was from Italy, did "I am from Italy" material which the crowd didn't hate. Brad was next and was terrific. There was a tiny amount of material I'd seen before at the Stand's 11th birthday party last year but I really enjoyed his set. Jeff Arcuri was next and was as good as anyone I watched the whole trip. Maddie followed and was fine but is another who needs to turn over material more quickly. I last saw her before the pandemic but still recognised about half her 10 mins. Chris closed, starting with "I am English/posh/clueless" type material before the climax of his improvised rap.
Seeking five topics to rap about he sourced 9/11, pre-school education, big butts, pineapples and was looking for something from my corner of the room. After asking twice and receiving no response I shouted out "the concept of ennui". Naturally he took this in his stride, professionally explaining to the audience what it meant. [Aside: I was only about 60% certain I knew what it meant]
"Where are you from?" he asked.
Scotland
"Where in Scotland?"
Edinburgh
"Where in Edinburgh?
Leith
"I spend about six months a year in Leith".
He then went on to tell me exactly where he stayed and I had to pretend to know where he was talking about. The alternative was to query him in excruciating and audience-alienating detail about Leith geography. As he began his rap I had several more thoughts:
You can't live in Leith. You used to work in Vegas. No one in Leith used to work in Vegas.
You can't live in Leith. You'd definitely be on the Scottish comedy scene and I'd definitely be aware of it.
You can't live in Leith. You're a weird-looking, unmistakable fecker. I'd have seen you in the street and been gobsmacked.
I decided that what he meant was that over the course of all the Edinburgh Fringes he has done, he has spent six months in Leith. Yes, that surely makes more sense. Fast forward to the following Saturday and I'm talking to David at Monkey Barrel about Chris Turner and David says "he's moving to Leith apparently". Well fuck me sideways!
Trip Stats
Shows attended - 8
Shows I was close to attending - 3
Shows that some people might call a failure - 4
Total expenditure for both - $158
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