Woman Around Town’s Anne Richmond is attending an eight-week course on standup comedy at the Comic Strip and writing about her experience. This is her first installment.

Every one of us entered the classroom with some amount of trepidation. We all sat to the left of the small stage looking each other over and saying polite hellos. Our instructor, D. F. Sweedler, swept into the room carrying a glass of soda. He sat down and looked us over.

“We’re going to go over some rules,” he said. “Out in the world, you’ll see people break these, but for the purpose of this class, these are the rules.”

As he listed each rule, pens and pencils scrawled furiously across paper. Would we be funny? Who was the funniest? How much experience did everyone have? All of my questions were held at bay as I tried to get down everything he said.

“Don’t be dirty.”

“No swearing?” A tough looking blonde woman spoke up.

“Not in this class, no.”

“What if it… slips out? I’m from Brooklyn, so…” She insisted.

“Keep it clean.”

Her comment reminded me of something I learned during an improv class at iO Chicago a few years ago. Some people think you have to be audacious to be funny, but it’s really about inviting someone into an idea and getting them on the same page. It’s about reminding people of things they don’t realize they already know. You don’t have to talk about sex or swear words to achieve universal comedy.

We also covered the ideas that feed comedy, like the rule of threes and the idea of a premise, or topic. D. F. patiently answered our questions about these concepts and all too soon we came to the end of the list.

Suddenly I realized that we hadn’t introduced ourselves. We’d been sitting in the room together for about an hour and a half and I had no idea who these other people were.

“Step on stage and introduce yourself. Tell us why you’re here and what it is you do. I’m not looking for you to be funny.” D. F. gave a wry smile and began sending us up on stage one by one.

While attending NYU’s Tisch School of the Arts, my fellow students were in my age range also looking for a career in the theater. The people in my comedy class were far more diverse in terms of ages and interests. They included a man had just dropped off his last kid at college, a school teacher (the Brooklyn blonde), an out-of-work lawyer, another young woman who had recently graduated and just moved to the city, and a guy who was retaking the class to develop more material.

Finally it was my turn to take the stage. My vision narrowed and it suddenly seemed as if there were twice as many tables and chairs to weed through in order to get to my destination. I also silently remembered my fear of public speaking.

I stepped up on the stage and felt my voice wobble in my throat. Don’t be funny, I told myself.

“I’m… Anne Richmond. I graduated from NYU Tisch with a B.F.A. in acting. I work two jobs; one in marketing for a gym and another at an Internet start-up company.” I felt the sudden urge to tell a joke but I stifled it with practiced monotone. “I write, produce, costume design, and act in a web series called O-Cast ©…” I trailed off. I wanted to be excited about who I was but I was afraid I would get derailed and make some strange joke, as I am prone to do. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was boring the other students with my introduction. All I wanted was a laugh or a smile, but everyone was just looking at me with mild interest and polite attention. “I’m here because I’ve always had an interest in stand-up and because I’m a writer for WomanAroundTown.com. I’m doing a weekly column on the class and my experience here.” I scanned the room and then looked down at my feet. “And… that’s me!” I fought the urge to do a “ba-dum-ch!” tap dance button and stepped down from the stage, trembling.

“You’re a busy gal.” D. F. nodded as I took my seat.

“Yup.” I sighed, happy to be among my peers again. I wondered to myself why I hate being myself in the spotlight. I’ve always had a hard time with that even though I have no problem with doing plays or playing characters.

Chase the fear, I thought.

“For next week, I want one and a half to two minutes based on a premise. You will write it down and read it for us. Time it, but don’t perform it for your friends, or if you do, don’t listen to them. They don’t know what they’re talking about. Do not memorize it because we’ll get rid of most of it.”

Before I even realized how much time had passed, the class was over and everyone began collecting their things.

Two minutes couldn’t be that hard. However, as the week went on, I found myself thinking of ideas and writing them down, but avoiding any commitments to a topic. After a four day weekend on the set of O-Cast ©, it was Monday again and all I had was a smattering of empty ideas—shells of premises I had considered but none that I’d deepened or specified. I rushed to gather my thoughts on Monday morning and time my piece before work. During the day I kept returning to my note pad and editing my notes, finally deciding to focus on a joke about the complications of eating food at Max Brenner and a follow up joke about people on dates there and how women feel uncomfortable ordering a decadent chocolate meal in front of men. I made a few different versions of the piece and then finally set aside my pen, realizing I would only drive myself mad if I overworked it.

I had no idea if my writing would be funny at all, but I didn’t want to spend my time on fear or nerves.

I arrived at The Comic Strip just on time for class and before I knew it D. F. was calling my name.

“Anne.”

I had purposefully chosen a seat closer to the stage this time so as not to trip over myself or feel awkward trying to weave through the tables and chairs.

I stepped up onto the platform, took a deep breath, and began to read.

Anne Richmond is an actress, singer, and writer living in New York City. Armed with a BFA in Theater from New York University’s Tisch School of the Arts where she trained at the Playwrights Horizons Theater School and The Experimental Theater Wing, she continues to work in the theater and the burgeoning field of new media. She is a founding member of Box Full of Wasps Theater Collective and one of the creators of the upcoming webseries, O-Cast ©, a show which she also produces, costume designs, and performs in. (www.annerichmond.com, www.o-cast.com)