Rushing so much it was a struggle to stay on his feet, Steve made it to the venue with 5 minutes to spare. He registered, and got told to wait until he was called as the promoters were waiting for more people and performers to arrive. Halfway through his cigarette he was called from outside and said he was on. He thought it odd that there were no other smokers, comedians normally chainsmoke before going on but he hadn't seen anyone. It was strangely quiet as he went to the stage wing. The promoter was now the Stage manager, and counted down with his hands and signalled for Steve to take the stage.
Walking out to the house brights turned to maximum Steve heard a solitary clap. Tough crowd.
"Hi, Hello, Well" Said steve, trying to get a feel for the room as his vision failed with the intense spotlight. He continued "How are we tonight?" Nothing. not a motion. or a whisper. "Guess you all must be tired from a long days work." This was a personal joke, this was a non descript town in north England, Steve was sure none of them worked. "I lost my job... I know where I left it... In the past... they told me my timekeeping is atrocious, I said 'I know, I keep giving it all to you..." Nothing. What happened to the solitary clap guy? With his vision returning he made out a row of empty chairs, empty space, and a cleaner in the background.
"What the..." Steve couldn't even finish his sentance.
"Open mic night was last night bruv, but thanks for mildly entertaining me and the cleaner" said the promoter.
"You not funny" shouted the cleaner from afar.
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