Mondays!!
Weekends are for children
Mondays, amirite???
I’m actually going to disagree with myself right off the bat. I have a take so hot you won’t care if it has a personality. I think Mondays are...good!
Obviously I’ll need the next however many words these things usually are to convince you of this outrageous opinion, but I think I’m right here. Because time is meaningless and we’re all going to die!!!! Just kidding. I mean, time is meaningless and one day all of us will die, but that’s not what makes me like Mondays.
I get where most Americans and Garfield are coming from. I didn’t always love Mondays. For years before I started my comedy career, I had a traditional office job from 9-5 Monday to Friday and Sunday nights were often a terror-filled ordeal of trying to mentally prepare for five straight days of showing up and doing stuff somewhere. My nights out would be Fridays and Saturdays with the rest of the corporate world, sometimes dabbling in a Thursday or Wednesday just to feel alive (or like I was in college again). On the rare instance when there was something to do on a Sunday or Monday or even Tuesday, I felt like it ruined my week, which is crazy because I was able to rebound so much better from a few drinks and less sleep in my twenties than I am now in my forties.
But around fifteen years ago I started doing comedy and shifting my life from the traditional corporate schedule to something a bit less rigid and way less tied to what “work” and “weekend” look like. I’ve never worked in food service or hospitality (I was a retail girl from the jump), but working in entertainment, my schedule is way more similar to the restaurant and bar industry than to the 9-5 set. When I started doing open mics, I was working at temp and other day jobs, which had a real “Ugh, Mondays” vibe but it didn’t matter because I was just set on what happened at 5:01pm. I remember being excited for the first day of the work week because the mics I felt comfortable at were then. From the 5pm comedy club to the 11pm 2 minute gauntlet at the PIT, I fucking loved Mondays. I was starting my week of comedy, not my week of ad sales data entry or whatever the hell it was I did during the day to pay my rent.
But Mondays were also great nights to see comedy if you didn’t do it. I’d bounce between working on jokes and hanging at the great tradition of Monday night shows in New York, like Whiplash and Hot Tub/Night Train/Butterboy. These were good shows with fun hangs and true staples of the New York alt comedy landscape. Sun-Thurs is when most of the good, fun shows happened, and weekends tended to be a little looser, when people would be on the road.
Even though I worked at some day jobs, and then even my television writing jobs operated on a regular weekday schedule, I long abandoned Mondays as the enemy and Friday and Saturday as the part of the week to look forward to. Part of that I’m sure is living in New York, where everything is happening all of the time. Going back to my suburban home where I grew up, I can’t imagine texting someone to go out for drinks or dinner on a Monday night. Granted, I also can’t imagine texting someone to go out for drinks or dinner at all in my hometown, but that’s because I don’t really know anyone there anymore, but that’s another topic for another newsletter.
For many years, I ran a Sunday night show, which was the only time in the last decade plus that Mondays took on a bit of a downer vibe. But that was only because I was coming down from the high of hosting If You Build It at UCB/Subculture with my comedy brother Robert. The high and the hangover both made Mondays a little brutal, especially when we’d hang at UCB until late with Audrey pouring us a million free beers, or when we’d wander over to the Von on Bleecker (past the infamous downtown Planned Parenthood and neighboring luxury maternity store Hatch) and reluctantly accept free tequila shots from the bartender Benny as he hit on Robert.
But Sunday nights, like Monday nights, are for the industry. Bar and restaurant folks have their weekend then, and people like me who work every night treat them as such, too. There’s something special about your time off being when no one else is out. I’ve never been one to wait on a line or enjoy a packed bar on a weekend. I’ve always preferred a chiller vibe where we can sit at the bar, talk at a normal volume, and not feel ignored by a busy bartender or overly attended to by a drunk man. When your work is everyone else’s fun, your fun also looks different than other people’s.
While Sundays were my favorite “weekend” night for many years, Mondays have taken the mantle in my more recent history. A huge part of that is my favorite show, Frankenstein’s Baby (known more familiarly to the group text as Frankenbaby, lovingly). I’ve written about it here, mostly when introducing my deranged emoji use that shocked our hosts and audience. Look, I like the weird ones, it’s OKAY!!!!! But for all of the mentions of the show here, I’d like to say why it’s the highlight of my schedule right now and why it makes the case for Monday as the best day of the week.
I’ve said it before, but I love just hanging at our show even if it’s not my hosting week. Me, Josh, Joyelle, and Tyrone rotate who hosts when just based on schedules. But when I’m not up, I’m genuinely excited to go and just hang in the back with whoever else is off that week and drink and laugh with everyone else. It’s a delight to just perch at one of the reserved back bar stools and order our show’s signature drink. Yes, we have a signature drink. No, it isn’t on the menu or anything (...yet). But Tyrone kindly introduced us all to a perfect mixed drink: mezcal and ginger beer. It’s seasonless, it’s delicious, it’s a perfect beverage to have one or two of before switching to a Union Hall staple like a Narragansett tallboy. Our friend and resident DJ Donwill keeps the vibes super fun from doors until everyone files upstairs. Our producer Jordan books reliably funny but also nice and cool comics who when they can, tend to hang and not just jet off to another spot. And of course, the other hosts are the best around.
And when I am hosting, well, that’s even better. Mostly because I love attention and that’s why I get on stage every night to tell everyone my stupid thoughts like “What was Gumby, an eraser?” Everyone in our crew is a delight to host with in fun and different ways. It’s great to hang backstage (aka a bench behind a curtain) and snack on the candy and cookies Jordan and Tyrone bring for comics as a little treat.
I love doing a little hosting crowd work at our show. I’m not always the biggest fan of crowd work, both doing it and watching it. That’s not a knock on people who do it well, but I think we’ve all been overexposed to the lazy comedy club “Are you guys dating or siblings?” garbage. Plus, too much crowd work online has trained a lot of audiences to be too...participatory. Despite what Instagram reels shows, comedy is not a conversation. But the structure of our show builds in some crowd work in the form of signature bits for the different hosting duos. It kind of started with me and Josh because we have a signature bit. Since we’ve hosted a ton of stuff together, and also talk all day every day about anything from writing projects to sandwiches, we have a lot to say to each other. Most of our conversations, however, are just complaints. We complain a lot! So when we both get back on stage before the final comic of the night to fuck around more, we do our signature bit called “That sucks!” We ask the crowd if anyone has a minor complaint that they’d like some commiseration for. We listen to people’s issues with lazy landlords or burger joints that close too early and then we collectively with the crowd all chant “That sucks!” It’s fun, it’s funny, it’s extremely cathartic.
What’s nice is that the Monday night crowd in Park Slope for our show is not rowdy and trying to get attention. This isn’t the Friday late show at a Manhattan club where everyone has been drinking since 5pm and the long work week is behind them for another 48 hours. Our crowd is chill, nice folks who don’t even immediately offer up answers when we ask questions. They’re easing into their week. They’re enjoying an early Monday show before going home and getting a nice night of sleep at the top of the week.
That’s what makes the show and Mondays so fun, really. There are zero expectations about anything! Even though our show regularly is full and fun, I always show up to Union Hall knowing it might just be 20 quiet people hanging out in the basement because it’s Monday and no one wants to go out. Though without fail, it’s always a goddamn party. Similarly, there’s never an expectation that comics, or audience, or even the other hosts will hang around upstairs at the bar (or outside in the Union Hall alley) after the show ends, but again, every time people do. I’ve never found myself begging someone “ugh, stay later!!!” on a Monday night show if they hung out after for an hour or two, because that seems like a lot of time for the beginning of the week. But people always do! Because they know no one is going to guilt them into one more drink. They’re there because they want to be.
This most recent show was our last of the year, because like the rest of the entertainment industry, we wrap up early and don’t go back to work until January. The line up was stacked, but also it’s basically the holidays/end of the year so the show was packed out and everyone wanted to hang. People were drinking, people were giggling and hanging and chilling out after the show with us until much later than the average person probably wants to party on a Monday.
After this week’s show our resident photographer Sam snapped a ton of cute photos of everyone hanging (and, as always, captured my shiny hair). We all stood around outside in the cold gossiping and giggling, and then went inside and goofed off with friends and audience members until what felt like late, but for a weekend in New York would be considered early. Then Josh and I peeled off for post-drinking chaos meal: a bacon egg and cheese with pepperjack on a roll from our favorite neighboring bodega to Union Hall. I also bought like four different weird beverages, some Ruffles for the next day, and a giant bag of Whoppers. I mean, cmon, it’s a Monday!
Here’s the thing, I said it earlier, but time is meaningless. I don’t mean that you have no responsibilities and you can rage on a Monday because nothing matters. I do think that in the years since the onset of the pandemic in 2020 changed a lot about how we work, socialize, and live, the concept of a rigid work week has slightly gone away. I don’t know if that’s even true, I don’t have a traditional Monday-Friday work week like so many people, so perhaps I’m projecting because I haven’t been in an office since 2019 (and even then, a TV office, so, do with that what you will). But slightly more flexible work situations, the ability to work from home, and (I think) the understanding that time on earth is short and we should have fun while we fucking can have I think all contributed to...Mondays can be fun.
I have a shitty birthday and have never been much of a fan of celebrating it. It’s late December, around Christmas. As a kid, it was impossible to have a party because everyone was either away visiting family or busy with other holiday obligations and not around. In college, I was in limbo, away from my real friends on campus as we all scattered for break, but also just home where I knew fewer and fewer people each year--not to mention Christmas still loomed large over that week and made everyone busy or away. And in adulthood, I still find that 20 years in New York leaves me usually here without many people to celebrate with because people, once again, are with their families. So except for a few years of the last 40 some, I don’t do much. This year, my birthday is on a Monday and when I realized that I almost lit up. Perfect. The expectations of that day of the week match the expectations of this time of year. No need to throw a rager or make a crazy plan. No one feels guilty that they can’t hang out. It’s a Monday! It’s the holidays! WHO CARES?
The world is awful right now. I don’t need to round up everything making it awful, we’re all confronted with it all day, every day, constantly through our phones, computers, and even each other. It’s cold on the east coast. It’s dark by lunchtime (at least if you live on my schedule), and once we get through the next 10 days there’s just not a ton for most people to look forward to. Which is why I, personally, can’t wait for Mondays.
MORE STUFF! MORE STUFF!
I just partied with my friends from the New York Groove, which sadly you now cannot do until next year or until their next happy hour or event, which is likely not far away. But what you can do is subscribe to their excellent journalism. If you live in New York and want to be a better New Yorker, it’s the best money you can spend.
Gift month continues over at Ruined, and this week we bring you Rabid Grannies.
Friday I’m at Black Cat LES at 9pm and then chilling through the holidays. But post-Christmas, come to Union Hall for a very festive Sup, Bro hosted by me and Josh on Saturday 12/27!
I’ll be in San Francisco for Sketchfest doing half hours on 1/16 and hosting, you guessed it, Sup Bro with Josh on 1/17!
I’m workshopping my new hour, “For This?” at Union Hall Thursday 1/22!
And every week until July 7, a reminder to pre-order my debut book of essays, I’m A Lot wherever you get your books!