Standup comedy is hard on its women. I started in 1987 […]
Standup comedy is hard on its women. I started in 1987 in San Francisco. Since then, I’ve worked mostly with male comics, for male club owners. I’ve wiggled out of thousands of uncomfortable hugs and let my cheek catch a kiss meant for my lips. I don’t have a story about misconduct by Louis C.K. like the ones that five women recently told reporters (which he admitted are true), and no one has masturbated in front of me, at least not without my consent. But I’d say almost every female comic could name a comedy club she can’t walk into, a booker she can’t email or an agent she can’t pursue because of the presence of a problematic guy. We are all avoiding someone who could help us make money.
Female comics do a lot of calculating, finding alternate routes to a career.
“I just won’t try to get a spot at that club tonight — he’s there.”
“I just won’t perform at that club ever — he runs it.”
“I just won’t get on that TV show — he books it.”