I am a failure. At comedy.
Seriously, if I was a sitcom, no one would watch. Something about me just makes me un-funny. I try so hard. I know that you’re not supposed to try to be funny. But I do. Which makes it even sadder when I try to channel my inner David Sedaris.
I don’t know what it is about me. But here are some examples of my experiences that have taught me just how un-funny I am.
At a staff meeting:
At our staff meetings, which occur every Wednesday, I am usually one of the first to sit in my seat (which are not assigned, but we keep going back to the same ones every week). Someone will come and sit next to me, and then the next person, etc., etc., until we are all in our places. Before the meeting is called to order, someone will make small talk. I will react with a facetious clause that I know is HILARIOUS. And everyone will ignore me. Until the person sitting next to me says the exact same thing that I just said. The one that no one laughed at. And everyone will double over, guffawing with joy.
With my girlfriends:
I think that one of my biggest challenges is that my sense of humor tends to be depreaciative, so we’ll all be joking around over ice cream and coffee, laughing until our stomachs hurt with humor. Until one of us goes too far. And it’s usually me.
In the street:
I may be funny in the street. But it is not on purpose. Definitely not on purpose.
I really wish this was one of my strong suits. I love the english language so much that I wish I was able to cant and recant every statement with something full of hilarity. Give me a glass or two of wine, and I will be sure to knock your socks off with my intelligent remarks. And make you laugh with every syllable that slips…oh wait, what’s that?
You laughing. And it’s not with me.