4
| Comedy |

New Year's Eve standup horror stories from Sam Tallent and Andrew Orvedahl

^
Keep Westword Free
I Support
  • Local
  • Community
  • Journalism
  • logo

Support the independent voice of Denver and help keep the future of Westword free.

As it is for most musicians, a New Year's Eve gig is nightlife-prime-real estate for a comic. Big money, big crowds and an audience that's ready to let its PC guard down and get loose. Consequentially, you never turn down a NYE standup gig -- if you can get one. But all this inevitably leads to some weird situations from time to time, since the combination of an explosive audience and a comic who would rather be partying with his friends is a potential recipe for disaster.

For proof, check out Sam Tallent accidentally mocking a dead son, and Andrew Orvedahl witnessing a urine-soaked lady who just wanted a hug.

See also: Andrew Orvedahl and Adam Cayton-Holland to record comedy albums at the Bug Theatre Arguments and Grievances second anniversary at Vine Street Pub The great debate: Andrew Orvedahl and Jef Otte settle their parenting differences like men Lucky '13: Comedian and Fine Gentleman Sam Tallent

Sam Tallent accidentally mocks a dead kid

So I was doing a show one New Year's Eve, and there's this couple that isn't having any fun. Just sad-sacking it, HARD. So I poke at 'em, give them the business a bit -- just trying to open them up. Everyone else was having a blast and I wasn't being mean...yet.

So the guy in the couple says, "How 'bout some jokes, bub?" or some shit. So I said, "What are you guys celebrating? Happy couple? The anniversary of your son's death?" It was a mean line, sure, but it got some laughs. But then the couple remained silent. Silent. And then the woman solemnly said, "His name was Daniel."

I left the stage an asshole that night, but an asshole with mind-reading skills. RIP Daniel. Andrew Orvedahl witnesses the power of comedy over a full bladder

I was doing this standup show on New Year's Eve -- which is a coveted gig -- and in addition to the comedy show, they also offered a buffet in the lobby of the club. So after the show (which, of course, was a riotous success), everyone was milling around in the buffet area, eating.

Then people started whispering and giggling. Eventually the whispers and giggles reached me, and someone asked if I saw the lady who peed her pants.

I had not, but then I suddenly did. She was hiding around the corner from the lobby, sort of peeking out. Which was weird. Weirder still, her husband was still picking over the buffet, piling his plate high. I'm all for a bargain, and I understand the buffet was included in the price of the party: But if your partner has peed their jeans, why not just call it a night?

So the guy continued to snack, and we all continued to sort of not notice the hiding woman, but eventually they had to leave. So for some reason the woman decided that she needed to get a hug from the headliner. So she emerged from her shame cave, and sure enough, the entire front of her jeans were just soaked. As if in slow motion she made her way through the party to the headliner, who -- to his credit -- fully embraced her as if he wasn't hugging someone who'd just peed her pants.


Keep Westword Free... Since we started Westword, it has been defined as the free, independent voice of Denver, and we would like to keep it that way. Offering our readers free access to incisive coverage of local news, food and culture. Producing stories on everything from political scandals to the hottest new bands, with gutsy reporting, stylish writing, and staffers who've won everything from the Society of Professional Journalists' Sigma Delta Chi feature-writing award to the Casey Medal for Meritorious Journalism. But with local journalism's existence under siege and advertising revenue setbacks having a larger impact, it is important now more than ever for us to rally support behind funding our local journalism. You can help by participating in our "I Support" membership program, allowing us to keep covering Denver with no paywalls.

We use cookies to collect and analyze information on site performance and usage, and to enhance and customize content and advertisements. By clicking 'X' or continuing to use the site, you agree to allow cookies to be placed. To find out more, visit our cookies policy and our privacy policy.

 

Join the Westword community and help support independent local journalism in Denver.

 

Join the Westword community and help support independent local journalism in Denver.