(Repost) Don't Roll with the Punchlines

When I started comedy, the first lesson I learned was that I was supposed to ignore the men's bad behavior around me. In my 3rd month at open mics, a very drunk male comedian wouldn't leave me alone, and the host told me to ignore it because "he gets like that." Later that night, the drunk comic cornered me in a booth and put his hand up my dress, something I'd later find out he had done to other girls.

A few months later, I had to tell a male comedian to stop whispering sexual things in my ear. When I left my phone on the table to record my set, he whispered into the camera that there was nothing I could do to stop him from "beating up that pussy” if he wanted to. When I told the host, he said, "he's just joking around."

Over the years, I would have this experience repeatedly: I'd see a man doing something inappropriate, I'd say something and be told to get over it. It left me with a feeling of otherness. Maybe I was too being uptight about being a comedian? So I tried to be one of the guys and pretend it didn't make me furious when they made jokes where a woman's consent was the punchline. That silence lasted all of six months. I spent the next two years standing on every soapbox I could find and trying to convince people to change, which was exhausting, combative, and ineffective.

It wasn't until a male host told me to quit coming to his show if I didn't like how he touched female comics that it dawned on me: I was going about this all wrong. Here I was trying to change the way people were when I needed to change the people.

So, I started an open mic. But then I realized how few women were signing up and that dudes were extra raunchy because there were hardly any women there. When a room full of overly confident young men are making jokes about murdering the slut who dumped him, you have an environment where most women don't want to spend their time. It is a cycle most people don't bother to break, saying, "It is what it is," but if you ask me, we made it that way, and we can change it.

So I started trying to make my open mic comfortable for everyone. I didn't tell people what to say, but I did start letting them know how what they said made me feel. I butted heads with a few people that don't signup anymore, but most seemed to grow from the experience. My open mic has a culture where other people feel empowered to speak up but rarely need to. After almost four years, we have set a new standard for what is acceptable, and the room self-regulates.

My next opportunity to work on things from the bottom up came when a theater invited me to teach a stand-up writing class. Teaching that course allowed me to intervene before someone got it in their head that a trans-phobic joke was hilarious. It gave them the chance to learn where the line was in an environment where not just one person but a whole class would make sure they didn't cross it again. It taught the entire group how to speak up, something crucial to changing our industry's "get over it" attitude before signing up for an open mic.

Now I run several showcases where I work with the next comedian level. I can influence what passes for acceptable behavior. I have a pipeline of opportunities to share with the comics I've been working with at my open mic and classes- AKA people who have learned to be funny AND respectful.

Overall, I feel pretty good about the community I have created around myself and don't often feel like an "other" anymore. It took some trial and error, but I realized the key to overcoming the feeling of otherness I had wasn't trying to go with the flow. It was to break out of the current. Being visibly true to yourself is like a beacon that calls to other "others," and if you give the signal, they'll find you. Then, little by little, you can cultivate your community and reshape even the most toxic environment.

If you are a person facing harassment, discrimination, or need an ally, email me at Sam@windypeach.com or visit a Windy Peach Comedy open mic. I promise you'll be welcome.

Comedy may not have an HR department, but that doesn't mean you don't have resources.

“Ask not what the booker can do for you, ask what you can do for the booker”

If the comedy community had an FAQ page, "How did you get that?" would be at the top of the list. Asking isn't always popular because everyone wants to be chosen, but in my experience, asking for what I want has always gotten better results than waiting. 

Before I did comedy, I worked in the music industry, interviewing bands and reviewing albums. 

Before I worked in the music industry, I was a person that wanted to work in the music industry but wasn't sure how to break in. I started by writing an email to a local radio station that played the kind of music I wanted to write about and asked if they would consider me for an internship. I was 15, and there wasn't an actual internship I was applying for, but I knew I wanted to be part of what they were doing at 98.3FM. I pitched an idea of what I wanted to do, why I thought I would be great at it, and when I was available to begin doing it. I got lucky, and the right person read my email, and over the next several years, I worked my way from intern to full-time host. Once I had honed my industry skills a little, I knew I wanted to interview more prominent bands and review major release albums. When I was 19, I started a blog next to nobody read, but I kept posting 2-3 times a day. Eventually, that blog became the portfolio of writing I submitted to significant publications. By 21, I freelanced for people who granted me access to the influential names I wanted to interview.

I've approached comedy pretty similarly: I decided I wanted to do it, I found ways to practice, and once I felt confident, I started asking the people to consider me for opportunities. As silly and fun as comedy is, if your goal is to do it at any level beyond open mics, you have to treat it like a job- and it is pretty rare to get a job without applying.

If you have been consistently developing your act at open mics but haven't gotten booked on a show, the person running that show probably hasn't seen you yet. Even in a minor comedy scene, many faces cycle in and out, so it is ridiculous to expect anyone to pay attention to your growth.

In my experience, the people who book rooms are much more likely to consider your booking request if they've seen you watch their show before. Comedy is often a give and take, but it is essential to remember that attending a show is not a bargaining chip. You don't get to say, "I came to your show, so now you have to put me on." but you can tell the showrunner, "I think your show is great, and I would love to be part of it. How can I be considered?". Try saying hello in person (aka put a face to your name) and then send a polite follow-up message to the show's social media or booking email expressing your interest. 

There is a vast difference between asking, "Can you book me?" and submitting your work for their consideration. Never ask a booker how to get on their show during the show. It isn't polite, and they 100% also will not remember you asked- they're busy!

If you see a show or comedy festival posting about needing volunteers, offer your help. Shows often need someone to work the door, help set up chairs, and post flyers- a ton of work goes into running a successful comedy show. Offering your help gets you face-time with people who can book you, shows your investment in making the show a success, and your respect for the showrunner's work. Not to mention it's a free lesson in show running!

A great message to send a show you have already been out to support: 

Hey (booker's name OR name of show), 

Last night, I had a great time at (Name of Show OR venue ). You run a fantastic room! I wanted to send a tape for your consideration and hope to perform with you sometime soon. 

Thank you, 

(Your first and last name) 

(Link to a video/website/media kit/etc.) 


If they don't reply to your message, wait a few weeks and follow up. If you still get ignored, do everyone a favor and leave it be until you have a new tape. Sometimes, no answer means no. Once you have submitted your information, you have no more power over the process- trust that they'll have you on if it is a good fit, and if not, there are plenty of shows out there. 

A good video should be well lit, easy to hear, and 5-7 minutes long (unless told otherwise, this is pretty standard). Most bookers want to see unedited tapes (not a highlight reel) and are not interested in your crowd work, so keep that in mind as you try to get a new clip for submissions. 

Final recap: 

-Attend the shows you want to be on. 

-Be present and be pleasant.

- If you are funny, you're going to get booked- eventually. 

Remember: It's nice to be asked to do a show, but if you sit around waiting for people to discover you, you'll be doing more sitting than stand-up.

Don't just roll with the punchlines

When I started comedy, one of the first lessons I learned was that I was supposed to ignore the men's bad behavior around me. In my 3rd month at open mics, there was a very drunk comedian who wouldn't leave me alone, and the host told me to just ignore it because "he gets like that." Later that night, the drunk comic cornered me in a booth and put his hand up my dress, something I'd later find out he had done to other girls.

A few months later, I had to tell a comedian to stop whispering sexual things in my ear. When I left my phone on the table to record my set, he whispered into the camera that there was nothing I could do to stop him from "beating up that pussy” if he wanted to. When I told the host, he said, "he's just joking around."

Over the years, I would have this experience over and over again: I'd see a man doing something inappropriate, I'd say something, and I'd be told to "get over it." It left me with this feeling of otherness-maybe I was too uptight about being a comedian? So I tried to be one of the guys and pretend it didn't make me furious, but that lasted all of…6 months. I spent the next 2 years standing on every soapbox I could find and trying to convince people to change, which was exhausting, combative, and ineffective.

It wasn't until a male host told me to quit coming to his show if I didn't like how he touched female comics that it dawned on me: I was going about this all wrong. Here I was trying to change the way people were when I needed to change out the people.

So, I started my own open mic…but then I realized just how few women were signing up and that because there were hardly any women there, dudes were extra raunchy. When a room full of overly confident young men are making jokes about murdering the slut who dumped him, you have an environment that most women don't want to spend time in. It is a cycle most people don't bother to break, saying, "It is what it is," but if you ask me, we made it that way, and we can change it.

So I started trying to make my open mic comfortable for everyone. I didn't tell people what to say, but I did start letting them know how what they said made me feel. I butted heads with a few people that don't signup anymore, but most seemed to grow from the experience. My open mic has a culture where other people feel empowered to speak up. Y, they rarely need to because, after almost four years, we have set a new standard for what is acceptable.

My next opportunity to work on things from the bottom up came when a theater invited me to teach a stand-up writing class. Teaching that course allowed me to intervene before someone got it in their head that a trans-phobic joke was hilarious. It gave them the chance to learn where the line was in an environment where not just one person but a whole class would make sure they didn't cross it again. Most importantly, it taught the entire group how to speak up, something crucial to changing our industry's "get over it" attitude.

Now I run several showcases where I work with the next comedian level. I can influence what passes for acceptable behavior. I have a pipeline of opportunities to share with the comics I've been working with at my open mic and classes- AKA people who have learned to be funny AND respectful.

Overall, I feel pretty good about the community I have created around myself and don't often feel like an "other" anymore. It took some trial and error, but I realized the key to overcoming the feeling of otherness I had wasn't trying to go with the flow. It was to break out of the current. Being visibly true to yourself is like a beacon that calls to other "others," and if you give the signal, they'll find you. Then, little by little, you can cultivate your own community and reshape even the most toxic environment together.

With that said, if you are a person facing harassment, discrimination, or just need an ally, email me: Sam@windypeach.com or visit a Windy Peach Comedy open mic. I promise you'll be welcome.

Comedy may not have an HR department, but that doesn't mean you don't have resources.

Voyage ATL interview with Sam Gordon

Check out the article on Voyage ATL here

Today we’d like to introduce you to Sam Gordon.

Thanks for sharing your story with us Sam. So, let’s start at the beginning and we can move on from there.
I always knew I wanted to be a performer but it took a long time to figure out how I wanted to do it. In grade school, I was part of a children’s musical theater troupe where I played the evil queen in pretty much every fairy tale and when I was 14 I started interning at a local radio station in the Chicago suburbs. I spent about six years doing radio, freelance music reviews and interviewing bands when one day, I stopped seeing bands every weekend and started hanging out at comedy shows instead. I was just a super fan that didn’t think I could ever write my own set until an OkCupid date took me to an open mic (which to this day it is the bravest thing I have ever witnessed)  and I decided that if they could do it, so could I. The date didn’t work out but a few days later I went to two open mics in one night and now I have been doing stand-up for almost 5 years.

We’re always bombarded by how great it is to pursue your passion, etc. – but we’ve spoken with enough people to know that it’s not always easy. Overall, would you say things have been easy for you?
I have been lucky enough to have had more highs than lows but like any woman trying to break into a male-dominated industry, it has been challenging. Comedy is full of people who don’t think women belong and over the years, I have burned bridges with a handful of venues because of sexist behavior and poor responses to harassment. But the great thing about comedy is that even the most important venue in a city is only important in that particular city. There will always be other places to perform and even though it felt like a loss at first, I’d rather lose negative spaces and make the effort to work in venues that make everyone feel respected.

So let’s switch gears a bit and go into the Windy Peach Comedy story. Tell us more about it.
Windy Peach is a comedy resource made up of live shows, comedy classes and original video content that I created after moving to Atlanta from Chicago. Through Windy Peach, I run an open mic, teach comedy writing classes with Highwire Comedy Co. and run several comedy shows. It also produces Sam Gordon Vs, a monthly talk show where I go “head to head” with a subject using live segments and video sketches. I recently partnered with Don’t Tell Comedy, a pop-up comedy show based out of L.A. that creates secret shows all over the country and Windy Peach just launched Peach Pitch, a free writers workshop for aspiring comedy writers to bounce ideas off of each other, collaborate and socialize. I sincerely believe that a rising tide floats all ships and using my resources to build up the comedy community is my main priority.

Has luck played a meaningful role in your life and business?
Most of what I have accomplished as a comedian has been a combination of luck and being ready. There is a saying that success is where preparation and opportunity meet and the longer I try to “make it” as a comic, the more I see how that is true. There is no clear path to becoming a successful comedian and the only thing you can actually control is your work. It can be incredibly discouraging but if you keep making things you care about and putting them out there, people will notice. Luck factors into which opportunities come along but it’s useless to be lucky if you aren’t prepared to deliver.

As far as bad luck… well, the two years before I moved to Atlanta were two of the most challenging and unlucky years of my life. I lost a friend, got fired from four different jobs, had a breakup and was sexually assaulted by another comedian. That bout of bad luck made me a lot more empathetic and has been part of my motivation curate a safer comedy community. As hard as those experiences were, they were also a catalyst for me to reclaim the direction my life was going and move on to bigger things.

Contact Info:

Your "lady bits" aren't dirty.


I used to avoid talking about periods, sex, or my body in general onstage because what if everyone found out I was a girl?! 

For many people, jokes about physically being a woman are lumped in with "cheap" sexual humor, which is frustrating because writing about gender is so different from writing about sexuality. 

They say to "write what you know," but when it comes to female experiences, it's more, "write what you know, except for that... that's gross." 

 I had difficulty navigating between being a comedian and a woman because many people think the two are mutually exclusive, and I am a desperate people-pleaser.

I'm embarrassed to say that I used to shy away from female comedians that talked about sex because the people around me told me that wasn't funny, and I believed them. Now that I'm older and a little wiser, I see the difference between things that are not funny and the people that say they aren't. Because I've watched set after set where a woman gets snarky comments over sex jokes that, had their male peers written, would have crushed. Countless female audience members have introduced themselves after the show and said, " I don't like female comedians, but you were funny!" while their husband silently nods along. I've been in a conversation about people's aversion to female-focused comedy, and there's always some guy who says it isn't about what we're saying. It's how we say it. Meanwhile, I have been at a comedy club while a man walks onstage wearing nothing but a sock to cover his penis. You tell me: Who is alienating the audience with their "bits"?" 

In the spirit of this post, here are some of my "dirtiest" jokes:

  • Why do they call periods a "monthly visitor" when they feel more like a "home invasion"?

  • They say that the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but what if I like being on top?

  • When a guy asks me where I want him to cum I like to make a fun joke and say, "to dinner with my parents!".

  • I slept with a Philosophy grad student, and now I can't stop asking myself, "Why?"

  • Dating a guy who sleeps on an air mattress is tricky because you're always trying to finish before the bed does.

  • They say the eating habits you have as a kid affect your diet as an adult, but I don't remember eating pussy like a kid.

  • I'm bisexual, but I prefer to be called a lesbi-and.

  • Have you ever been so hungry that when the food comes, so do you?