Class Conscious Comedy - Courtesy of the Jesters Royale

Have you ever felt poor? I mean, not just “lower-middle class” poor, but dirty fingernail, uneducated, get-hit-in-the-face-by-a-wreath-thrown-by-Ebenezer-Scrooge poor? Well, if you haven’t and you’d like to, I recommend making friends with a doctor and heading over to their pad – which is likely the size of a small hospital itself, only, instead of sick people, it’s full of statues of naked women.

The story begins (and ends) on the evening of December 12, 2009. I, with a few of my comrades from the Jesters Royale comedy improv troupe (http://www.jestersimprov.com/ – enough pimping for you?) had been invited to participate in the Christmas celebration for the Maliheh Free Clinic. The party took place at the doctor’s home in Holladay, UT. Truthfully, though, I could have sworn that we drove through a wardrobe somewhere along the way, because we must have been in Narnia or some other magic kingdom. The house was fully lit up like a palace, the artwork and furnishings were strange and unusual, and I’m pretty sure I heard the house cat speak to me. Couldn’t understand it, though – must have been French.

The guests all mingled in the lobby room – which was larger than my childhood home and held a couch larger than my bed – dressed to the nines in nice sport coats and sparkly dresses. Meanwhile, we, the entertainment, stood off to the side with our filthy hands stuffed into the pockets of our jeans. One of the guests must have noticed our discomfort. She, naturally, assumed we just needed something to do, so she came over and politely asked, “Are you the help?”

We set up in the gym for our performance – and, yes, this house has a gym, complete with a treadmill, basketball hoop, and the mounted heads of water bison, deer, and gnus. Feeling a little uncomfortable, though, I wandered back to the kitchen in search of something to drink. The counter was full of bottles to choose from. Unfortunately, the bottles were each labeled with some hard-to-pronounce name and a year (must’ve been French). I slunk back to the gym, thoroughly intimidated. Thankfully, on my second foray to the drink bar (the others came with me this time, so I had reinforcements), I found a solitary bottle of 7-Up, which I had never been so happy to make mine.

Before the show, I decided it would be wise to use the bathroom. Just like everything else I’d encountered in this house thus far, the bathroom scared the… you know what? I don’t think I can tastefully finish that sentence.

Anyway, as I went in to the bathroom, I noticed a large, clear, circular window, about 3 feet in diameter, sitting at waist level just above the toilet. Just as I saw it, Blake (one of the other Jesters) called out, “Look out the window there and see if you can see that big white dog!”

“Well,” I said, as a member of the catering staff walked past the window, “I don’t see a DOG…”

I went to the sink to wash my hands. For some reason, the knob for the hot water wouldn’t turn. I figured they must have set up a faucet with those pull knobs, so I grabbed the knob and pulled it up. I knew I was mistaken when the knob came off in my hands.

Finally, the time came for us to perform. We included in our lineup a game called World’s Worst, in which the audience shouts out an occupation, and the players in the game act out what the world’s worst example of that occupation would be. When asked for an occupation that only required a high-school diploma, the audience was quick to respond with “improv performer.”

“Hey!” I said, a little heatedly, “I’ll have you know that I have a bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing!”

They seemed to find this even funnier.

Okay, so I kid a little bit. The performance wasn’t bad, the audience seemed to enjoy it, and the doctor who hosted the party extended every courtesy to us. He even joined us for a game of Sound Effects and made fantastic motorcycle noises (while he was trying to imitate an earthquake).

Still, though, I never thought I’d be so relieved to head back to our usual venue on Magna main, across from all the bars.