Steve’s Hot Dogs – St. Louis It’s a Thursday night, and one of the comics in town tells me about another open mic at Steve’s Hot Dogs. You’re not guaranteed to get on, but most Thursdays you do. One week a month is their curated showcase, but tonight isn’t one of those weeks. So I figure—what the hell. Let’s go. I’ve got a joke I’ve been holding for the Funny Bone about Joe and Pokémon, but I don’t want to burn it here. Steve’s Hot Dogs isn’t just another bar to me—Steve is the lead singer of The Urge, one of my all-time favorite bands. I was at the live recording of Fat Babies in the Mix. I was at their shows constantly. Growing up, The Urge was part of my blood. So instead, I write a brand-new four-minute set just for this room. I talk about being a kid skanking at The Urge shows, looking like I had head Tourette’s, but somehow still impressing the goth girls. And it rocks. I don’t know if I was actually funny or if it was just the right room for my language, but people were cheering, yelling—connecting. It felt alive. Four weeks into this stand-up thing, and stage time is still rare for me. But tonight? Tonight I spoke a language the room understood, and they shouted back.
