How One Comic Made Their First $1,000 in Stand-Up (and Spent It All on Therapy and Tacos)
I know a comic — scrappy, funny, and just unhinged enough to chase laughs in back rooms of bars where even the rats wore tiny earplugs. Let’s call them Tony (because “Poor Life Choice” was already taken).
Tony wanted to make a living doing stand-up. Not millions, just enough to buy gas and maybe cry less in the frozen food aisle. And after years of slinging punchlines and eating rejection for breakfast, Tony finally made their first thousand dollars doing comedy.
Here’s how it went down.
Step 1: That Glorious First $20
Tony got booked — and I use that term loosely — at a dive bar where the stage was a pool table and the audience was two bikers and a schnauzer with better grooming than most open mic comics.
They did ten minutes, got paid $20, and felt like a star. Immediately spent it on gas and a celebratory milkshake. That was Tony’s first taste of the big time.
Step 2: Hosting Like a Human Xanax
The money started rolling in (slowly… like molasses in a snowstorm) when Tony started hosting. They weren’t just telling jokes — they were babysitting drunk strangers and dodging unsolicited advice from “comedy fans” who thought fart jokes peaked with Milton Berle.
Still, they pulled in $50 per show, hosted five shows in a weekend, and walked out with $250 and an unshakeable eye twitch.
Step 3: A Clean Set at a Corporate Gig
Then came the big one: a corporate holiday party. Clean material only. No swearing. No sex. No politics. Just pure, HR-approved chuckles.
Tony wrote a killer set about office coffee, passive-aggressive emails, and the deep mystery that is the “Reply All” button. Thirty minutes, $500. They smiled through it even as their soul tried to tunnel out through their eyebrows.
Step 4: Merch Magic
Tony didn’t stop there. They started slinging T-shirts after shows — black cotton masterpieces that read:
“Don’t Heckle Me, I’m Emotionally Fragile.”
They sold $230 worth in one weekend, mostly by threatening to sing Adele if people didn’t buy one.
Total: $1,000
It took a minute, but Tony hit the magic number: a thousand bucks from stand-up comedy. Real money. Not "exposure." Not drink tickets. Actual income — made from making people laugh.
And how did they celebrate?
$300 went to therapy, because stand-up may be cheaper than therapy, but it's not a replacement.
$100 went to tacos, because Tony has taste and trauma to numb.
$200 went to new boots, because nothing says “professional” like finally having arch support.
$400 went to rent, because landlords don’t accept merch or charisma.
The Moral of the Set
Tony didn’t get rich. But they proved it was possible. That laughter can pay — even if it’s in small, weird, beautiful installments.
So if you’re out there grinding, know this: it is possible. Not overnight. Not always in money. But if Tony can do it? You can too.
Just bring merch. And maybe a therapist on retainer.
— ANT 🎤💸🌮
