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I drank glass after glass of water, but I still had that dry mouthed feeling, like my tongue was cotton wool, a minute before I went on stage. It was odd to be surrounded by comedians who'd never seen me perform before: would I stand there and mumble for five ignominous minutes? Would I inexplicably catch fire and fall into the crowd? Or would I just not be funny?
As Umar announced me, I felt goosebumps; my face started to twitch with the adrenaline like it used to on my first open mikes in 2008, and then I was onstage and flying, and little tweaks I'd made moments before seemed to fit in perfectly. I was grinning, I was arrogant - but just arrogant enough - and sneakily I could shoehorn in my best Hong Kong material without anyone realising it wasn't the product of careful observation of Singapore life.
Just like in every comedy competition, I was in fourth place on the line up. That was pretty much perfect for me: the first three guys all had some trouble with a cold room, though they finished stronger than they started. On the other hand, I've done enough sets now to know to run hard out of the gate: you have to keep the first couple of minutes as fast as possible, firing off jokes until something hits. Or it was the luck of my first time out in Singapore. It's not always going to be like that, but you have to savour the nights when the crowd goes with you, laughing at all the right places.
I remembered what I'd been missing. Too often I think I was taking things for granted last year. Hopefully I can get a few more spots in 2012 and hone some more material.
And so to bed. I wonder if I'll manage a run tomorrow morning.
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