I have been to, officially, three comedy clubs in my life to see actual comedians. I’ve also been to many unofficial comedy shows in my life, but most of those were late night in bars and funerals.

The first show was when I was married, and my future-ex-wife’s sister was getting married. The small bachelor party found it’s way to a comedy club in West Orange, NJ. (Rascals). A limo ride there, lots of drinks, steak dinner, and a show.

Was it fun? Sure it was, and you know how I know?

Someone threw up in the limo on the way home (and this time, it wasn’t me).

But, the funniest line I heard that weekend was the next morning when Arlene (then wife) asked me how the show was, then added before I answered:

“Did any of the comedians make fun of you?”

Confused, I asked, “Why?”

“You know,” she said, “because of your big nose.”

There was the love and support I miss after my divorce (where is that sarcastic font when I need it?).

The second time at a Comedy Club was totally unremarkable. It was Dangerfield’s in New York City (it’s still open) with a woman I dated that lived in the city for years (Upper East Side/Upper West Side). I don’t remember any of the comedians, but it was fun night in the city (that never sleeps).

Jump ahead to a few weeks ago and I ran into a friend from work (both retired now) and she had a couple of tickets to a Comedy Show in Somerville (New Jersey) later that week and asked if I’d like to go with her.

I did, so plans were made.

Like Fight Club, there are rules to going to a Comedy Club.

Rule One: Do not sit at the table closest to the stage at a Comedy Club.

Rule Two: DO NOT sit at the table closest to the stage at a Comedy Club.

We arrived, and of course we sat at the table closest to the stage.

Before the show began, Natalie (my friend) got a text from her daughter telling her not to laugh to loud (basically, don’t draw attention to yourself)

That’s hard to do when you are three feet from the comedian.

I went to the Men’s Room prior to the start of the show, otherwise I would have to cross in front of the stage while the comic zeroed in on my perp walk to the bathroom.

Apparently, there is a third rule of going to a Comedy Club show.

Rule Three: Pee before you go to a Comedy Club.

In that bathroom I saw something interesting (more on that later).

Note: Except for the headliner, Alex Kumin (a woman if the name is confusing), I don’t remember any of the other comics’ names. That is not a slight on their talent, just a showcase of my deteriorating memory.

The first comic turned out to be the hostess for this event. She talked about her dad, a gay pastor, who had a slogan for his sermons. However, she said, instead of his slogan it should have been ‘from gay men to amen’.

Whispered to Natalie (or so I thought I whispered), “That’s funny.”

With that said, the comic turned and fixed her eyes on me.

“This guy here thinks that was funny. Of course it was funny, I wrote it.” Then she asked, “what’s your name and what do you do?”

Told her I was retired, and told her the hardest part of retirement was remembering what day it was?

“Okay, I’m going to put you on the spot,” she asked, “what day is it?”

Before I could answer, which I’m sure would have been a hilarious, a woman shouted, “It’s Jason’s birthday!”

All attention turned to Jason and just like that my fifteen seconds of fame was over (or so I thought).

Next comic was a big guy, and I mean big. I’m a big guy, and he made me feel small. But that was his shtick, because every single joke referenced his size.

Then the hostess was back, and she was excited.

“I just came from the woman’s bathroom,” she shouted, “and there are a dozen bottles of lotion on the counter. All different brands and sizes.”

Then she asked, “Has anyone been to the men’s room? What’s the men’s room like?”

Before anyone else chimed in I shouted, “There are nine bottles of lotion on the counter around the sinks in the men’s room!”

(yes, I counted them)

Then added, and I couldn’t resist, “I wonder if they are using it for more than just washing their hands?”

I got some groan laughs from the audience, and a fist bump from a woman at our table.

The next comic confused me.

Turns out I do remember another comics name. It rhymed with ‘bass’ (as in the fish) so he came out wearing a fish head.

With that, his act was a series of incredibly bad fish puns.

Like…

“Oh, that last joke,” he’d inject, “it was bad, but that was just a fluke.”

That was his entire set, and thought it was absolutely horrible.

Later I wondered, maybe it was bad on ‘porpoise’ (see what I did there). Maybe it was comedy the way Andy Kaufman’s jokes made his audiences uncomfortable (because I felt very uncomfortable watching this man’s act).

It didn’t get less strange with the next comedian, a man in a pork pie hat and a speech cadence like Steven Wright.

What did this comic talk about?

He went on about how embarrassing it must be for a comedian to go on stage and tell jokes while wearing a fish head. Then ended with, if we were lucky after the show, we’d see a man in a fish head getting hit by a car.

I was sure these acts were a collaboration between the two comics. However, if the first one was Andy Kaufmanesque, I still have no idea who the second comic was supposed to be.

Next was headliner Alex Kumin.

Not that she wasn’t funny, she was. However, I only remember one thing that she said.

Do you remember the comment I mentioned earlier about the soaps and lotions in the men’s room?

Well, apparently, she did remember.

After one particularly funny joke I laughed to loud and Alex turned, looked right at me and said:

“Well, Dicksoap there thought that was funny.”

Dicksoap?

Well, now I know how I’ll be signing my Christmas cards this year.

Wasn’t sure if this call back was because she liked my comment about the soap, or she didn’t like my comment about the soap.

Either way, welcome to show business!

A few jokes later, Alex wrapped up, bid us all good night, and just like the show was over.

The good thing is I learned two things that night.