"There is no bar exam, in other words, no test to pass. Instead, the comic is tested every night, graded by strangers who may not be laughing because they’re full or tired, or because the comic had to go on first to a cold crowd (going on first is called “taking the bullet”), or because the comic had to take the dreaded spot when the checks come out (the “check spot”). Or because the crowd fundamentally disagreed with the comic’s worldview, or because the stupid lighting wasn’t quite right. And those grades are handed to no one but the comic themselves—to be considered on long rides home from Elks lodges in the western part of Massachusetts or hermetic colleges in Pennsylvania and New Hampshire or on late-night trains back to Brooklyn, where the comic crashes on a couch that is really more of a chair while everyone the comic graduated college with gets married, takes vacations and posts happy photos, lives a real life and occasionally wonders if the comic is still “doing the comedy thing."
- Standup Comity - The Morning News
