Grin And Bare It At The Naked Comedy Show

Tonight is the night, when I choose to do the Naked Comedy Show. Yes, I am going to stand in a room full of strangers, friends of mine and possible exes and attempt to tell jokes that will make the audience laugh and distract them from my penis. God help me.

Every year I ask to do the show, then forget that the major conceit of the show involves being naked, then start panicking and get third-degree burns from shaving and Nairing myself. A small part of me does it to prove that I have the balls to do it, which I inevitably find out after a nice trim (ew). Another part of me is doing it for the resume boost (a very small part because while I am career-oriented, it's not an agented showcase by any means). But as to the real reason why I’m doing it, well, I can do a nice little speech about how it’s art and it’s a representation of man’s inhumanity to man or some bullshit like that, but the honest truth is that…it’s kind of fun.

Here’s the thing: I’m not really comfortable with myself being naked in front of people…or bright lights or spacious rooms. I’m a clothes-on kind of guy; I like the mystique that a hoodie, sweater, t-shirt and thick jeans affords. I’m a fan of necessary nudity (like in a shower or a strip search) but I don’t need to have genitals on the couch. The thing is that I have to get out of the mentality that bodies are gross and this show helps me do that.

Don’t’ misunderstand; I’m not a hippie at all, but there is something rather neat about the fact that we spend so many weekends trying to crawl into bed with someone in a sexual context and yet try to completely avoid looking at the naked form. As a society, we are so afraid of looking at junk and yet it is such a voyeuristic pleasure. I like the idea of removing the veil and saying “Look, this is me. Now decide if you want to hit this, or friend me or not.”

In college, our school used to have Naked Parties, which were exactly as advertised. I went with two friends of mine who were freer about their bodies than I was at that point. I kept worrying about it being an orgy or accidentally groping a boob or random fluids and when I got there with my clothes on, I actually felt out of place. There was no eroticism, no shower of condoms, it was just people talking to each other, holding Dixie cups, naked. It was probably the least sexual experience I’d ever been through. I remember getting to the “changing room” and thinking “I don’t know if I can do this.” I turned around and saw my friends run out of the room naked. At that point, I felt compelled to take off my clothes and join in. I’d be lying if I said my eyes didn’t wander at the party but it wasn’t that serious. I was like “Oh well that’s a penis, that’s a vagina, wow that looks like high maintenance value, good for you!” And again, there were people who didn’t fit that retarded unrealistic Hollywood/porn star mold but it was beautiful simply because these people chose to express themselves.

I spend so much time cowering in fear of my imperfections when the truth of the matter is that I have to learn to embrace myself before I can feel like a real artist. Does my sac affect the quality of my life? It shouldn’t. I’ve had friends go to the show and talk to me afterwards and, other than a couple of below the belt jokes, everything was normal. I think we as a society would learn a lot by having naked performances of their own, maybe not in front of strangers throwing dollar bills at you but start small. Have a naked dinner party or a nude movie night (don’t watch Jaws though, trust me on this).

I always think about this piece from Margaret Cho’s set when she talks about some fashion magazine’s tips about how to look hot while having sex. Her abridged response was “Fuck that. I’m going to sweat and look ugly and you should be happy to be here fucking me.” I feel the same way about this show; it helps me boost my self-esteem ever so slightly (unless I bomb but I’m trying not to think about that). And even if I do bomb, fuck it, at least there was an audience curious enough to give me a chance.

If you are free here are the details:
The PIT (People’s Improv Theatre)
154 West 29th Street bet. 6th and 7th Avenue
8 PM
Run by Andy Ofiesh and Rob O'Reilly
$10