“Wow, I didn’t think you’d be that funny.”
I’m a short, un-athletic, sarcastic, self-deprecating fifth-generation David with an accounting degree from Syracuse. No, I’m not Jewish. Jews are already blamed for too many things that aren’t their fault, and I don’t want to add me to their tab.
Two or three years as an accountant was all it took for me to realize that, maybe, my future didn’t lie in public accounting. With no real plan, I left. Apparently, employers only want to hire people who already have a job. They’re corporate equivalent of emotionally scarred women who only want relationships with married men. But, I digress.
A handful of horrible job interviews and a few months of golf later, I was asking myself, “What, honestly, am I any good at?” (My internal monologue doesn’t have very good grammar). Avoiding the typical career counselor cliches about being an organized ‘people-person’ who ‘thinks outside the box’ but sometimes ‘cares too much’, I came up with this:
- Public speaking
As if I didn’t appear Jewish enough already, I wrote and performed my first stand-up comedy set. It didn’t go horribly – much better than other “first times” I’ve experienced, but that isn’t saying much. I was hooked.
The sort-of quote at the top of the page can’t be attributed to any one person; it’s a sentiment expressed to me by a number of friends who came and saw my act. I’m not above accepting backhanded compliments.
I joke about me: my experiences, my warped worldview, my insecurities, my inability to lose my gut no matter how many different ways Men’s Health Magazine tells me I can, and my overwhelming feeling that most people take everything too damn seriously. Relax, and enjoy my comedy.