I got a call yesterday at 2 from Capitol Hill Arts Center saying that they’d double booked the theater where we normally do the Salon of Shame, and so they were bumping us into their larger, upstairs space.

In a panic (our usual 100ish people were going to feel pretty agoraphobic in such a huge space), I did a last minute press scramble — letting everyone know that this would be the show to come to, as there was no way it would sell out.

(Do you see where I’m going with this?)

We opened doors at 6:45, and as the space started to fill, every few minutes I would run out to the lobby to see how things were going. And despite two and then three people working the door, every time I checked, there was a line. 7pm: Line out the door. 7:15: line out the door. 7:30: line. Extra chairs were fetched. People sat against the wall. At a certain point I had to get up on stage and make people play the “Raise your hand if there’s a seat next to you!” game.

I also had to ask “Who remembers the show we did where only 8 people showed up and we only had two readers?” One hand went up.

And yet somehow we managed to get just about everyone in, even my former coworker who showed up at 7:45 to my chastisement of “Not only are we sold out, but you’re fifteen fucking minutes late.” Even he got in, although he didn’t get a seat. A couple people showed up even later and were turned away. At that point, it’s not about sold out — it’s about being on time.

Last night’s Salon ended up like the a marathon of funny: the biggest show (door count musta been around 200), the most readers (16?), and the longest running time — almost three hours.

God he was funny!We had some of my favorite readers of all time, especially Marc’s pre-gay Minnesota musings about a guy named Evan and his sexy ass.

That said, I’m just not sure the show works in that large a format (seems like readers feel more pressure to Perform!! in a venue that size), and we had waaaay too many readers, and wow, three hours is definitely too long. I’m seriously impressed with the audience’s laughter stamina.

But now I have to scurry back to my little planning place and make some decisions: Do we stay in the bigger space? How can we better enforce the five-minute reading time? How do we encourage folks to just read, not to perform or editorialize? How can I curate the show without making people audition? Do we add the a/v component with high school pictures of readers projected behind them?

… And how the fuck did I end up being the producer of a comedy show?!

PS: Here’s what the bloggers are saying about last night’s show.