Headliner... by Matthew Terry — The Comedy Tribune

I paid my cover and walked into the club. I looked around and was actually a bit disappointed. I don't know why I was disappointed. I don't know what else I was expecting other than a club, with a bar, a stage and a hallway with a bathroom sign hanging above the entrance.

I walked over to a wall filled with pictures. Almost immediately I found a picture of him with several other comics. The photo next to that photo was of just him, but he had a lot more facial hair, so was obviously from a different show at a different time. I scanned all the photos looking for my mom. After finding him several times over, I finally found a picture of her, standing with him. They looked happy. Very young and happy. If my mother had not told me hundreds of times through my life that she left comedy on her own, rather than because she was having a baby, I would have felt bad for disturbing her life.

I walked towards the bar, and while I did so I saw posters from past comedy shows, with his picture somewhere on all of them. When I got to the bar I said to the bartender "The headliner. He seems to be here a lot."

"Damn right. As long as a horse keeps paying off, you keep betting on him."

"What do you mean by that?"

"He always keeps his stuff fresh, so he always draws a good crowd every single time."

"Then why did I have to drive four hours to see him? His website shows he doesn't venture very far from this place. If he's that damn good, why have more people not heard of him? Doesn't sound very popular to me."

"Well Madam, you're the one that drove...you said four hours...to see him."

"Yea. I guess you're right. Sorry."

"No worries. Besides, you do have a point. This place means a lot to him. He has ties here going way way back. Loyalty is big with him. Which is rare."

I stumbled out an "I see.", pointed at a beer ad and said "One of those please."

I took my beer and went to find a seat. There weren't a lot of people milling around quite yet, so I had pick of where I wanted to sit. At first I sat in the very back. I didn't think it would be a great idea if he saw me. But, truth is, I really wanted to see him, so I stood up and moved to a table right next to the stage. After a few minutes I realized that that left three chairs empty at my table. I was just asking for him to focus on me and just me. I got up and sat mid way between the front and back. Seemed logical. The bartender yelled out "Hey Goldylocks! You good over there?" I gave a thumbs up and a half hearted smile.

I sat there nursing my beer, thinking of God only knows what. I know that I was not paying any attention to the world around me because before I knew it, people had occupied the seats around me, the lights were going dim and people were applauding in honour of the show beginning. I swallowed, but had a hard time doing it. I stupidly took a sip of beer, because that's exactly what you do when you seem to be having trouble swallowing, add more liquid. The host for the night came out to warm up the crowd. My first thought was "That's not him. This guy is black." I hoped that wasn't a racist thought. The first comic came out and I thought "That's not him either." Since it wasn't him, I just looked around and took in my surroundings. I love comedy. I watch stand-up quite a bit, but that was not really why I was here. The next comic came out and it was a woman. I applauded for her when she came out, which I found odd because I knew I didn't applaud for the black guy. I thought "Jesus, maybe I am racist." But then I realized I didn't applaud for the first comic either, so that made me feel better. When the woman got off stage I felt the urge to pee. I started to get up to use the bathroom when the host said "It is now time for your headliner." I sat back down.

"He is more than a regular here."

I should have went pee.

"He performs here almost one hundred times a year."

I had to pee pretty bad.

"No one is more associated with this club than him."

It hurt, I had to pee so bad.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please give it up for ..."

I stood up and beelined for the bathroom. I thought someone would say something, but his name was announced, people clapped and I was out of sight by the time he took the stage. I slipped into the ladies room, found an open stall and relieved myself. I got up and walked out right away. I didn't even wash my hands, which is strange for me. I was simply going to watch his set from the hallway entrance. I did not want to risk drawing any unwanted attention to me. Yet, when I looked at my table, it looked quite dark. In fact, it took me some time to look around and find it. I figured I could sneak back in the shadows and take my seat. I got to about ten feet away when someone in the crowd said "There she is." I froze in place, maybe thinking not moving a muscle will make it go away. It didn't work. He looked at me from the stage and said "Thank God. I thought a whole table had heard my name and just said 'Fuck this guy. We're out of here."

"Nope. Just really had to pee."

"Fair enough. Are you by yourself?"

"Yep."

"Wow. You came to a comedy show by yourself? What kind of things are you working yourself through?"

"You don't want to know."

"Probably not. Improv has never been my thing. Please, have a seat."

I sat down back at my table. He watched me every single step. The moment my ass touched the chair, he turned and went right into a bit about this woman on TV who cannot act, which makes him wonder 'Who's dick is she sucking to be on this show?" I watched him do his show and I kept thinking two things. He's really, really funny. He had me laughing so hard it hurt. Not just me, but everyone. That fact actually pissed me off a little bit. I didn't go there hoping he wasn't funny. Again, I'm not quite sure what I was hoping for.

The second thing that kept crossing my mind was that he really did look like me. I had seen the resemblance in all the pictures I had seen and my mom had told me many, many times that I was the spitting image of him, but seeing him in person and seeing how his expression changed and his cheeks moved when he talked and his head wrinkled up when he acted surprised, it looked like I was seeing myself on a really good TV. I wondered to myself if it was a good thing for him that he looked like his daughter. Then again, was it a good thing that I looked exactly like my father? I figured, I do okay for myself, so the jokes on him. No pun intended, I thought.

After about forty-five minutes, it was done. He thanked the crowd and walked off. Everyone stood up and applauded, except for me. I don't know why. No one noticed. At least not him. I was surrounded by so many people that he could not have seen me. People grabbed their coats and hats and cell phones and started filing out. Even though there was a waitress collecting glasses and bottles, I brought mine up to the bar. As I walked away a man's voice said "Have a good night." Even though I knew it wasn't his voice, I turned around kinda hoping, but not knowing why, it was him. The bartender repeated "I said goodnight Goldylocks." I waved and walked out the door.

About a week later, my mom called. Without even saying hello, she just jumped right into it, "So, do you have a sense of fufillment now that you've seen your father?"

"Who told you?"

"He did."

"He did? How did he know? Did he know? You always told me he didn't know. Has this man not had sex in thirty years?"

"He didn't know until he saw you. He said it was your eyes. It took him a few days to place the eyes. We still have some mutual friends, so he asked around and got my phone number. Called me up an hour ago and said 'So, we have a daughter, eh?'"

"That's it? He saw your eyes on my face and that equaled a daughter?"

"Well, he also said you were the spitting image of him. Like looking in a mirror. He said 'Is it a good thing that I look like my daughter? Or even worse, that my daughter looks like me?"

That's funny.

Matthew Terry - @announcerterry