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Death Defying Adventures in Comedy Overcomes Hecklers at the Triple Door


This past Saturday, June 2, Dana Gould performed two shows here in Seattle at the Triple Door. Sharing the stage with Gould were comics Cathy Sorbo, who was doing her songs of filth, and David Crowe. Lee Callahan was the emcee for the nights festivities, and whenever there wasn’t someone speaking or singing into microphones there was a three piece band on stage keeping things lively. The venue was beautiful, the food smelled fantastic, the talent on stage was formidable, the audience… well, there were some bad apples.

I was at the second show. One can only hope that the first show didn’t suffer from the drunken fools who did their level best to ruin the entire second show. From the very beginning of the show when a man in my section told Lee Callahan to get off stage I feared for the worst.

Cathy Sorbo had her work cut out for her at first. The room wasn’t ready to laugh, but by the end of her first song of filth, the people were warming up to her. Then David Crowe came out and asked the audience if he should ease in or go full bore. Someone shouted out to go for it, and he did. He’s dirty, and he had as many people feeling uptight as he had people laughing. At some point about halfway through Crowe’s set the troubles began in my section.

There were two different tables of people who were finally asked to leave, and they were both seated near me. (Close enough you could smell the Axe body spray.) First guy to get the heave-ho was heckling, and when he was shushed by someone sitting behind me he turned around so I could clearly see him puff out his chest and challenge whoever shushed him to fight, right then and there. (We were all really sad to see him go.) He and his date were the first to get 86ed. That was during Crowe’s set, after the two had made a good amount of ruckus. Meanwhile the real trouble was just brewing.

Same section, but just a bit down from the first rude table were the real jerks. It was two men and two women, and rather than sit on chairs like grown-ups, the women were sitting on the men’s laps. The four of them were clearly drunk, and loudly chatting among themselves during the whole show. Everyone on stage was forced to comment on how they were disruptive at one point, and finally during Dana Gould’s set they were 86ed. Two paragraphs dedicated to the hecklers is a lot, I know, but they were impossible to ignore. Gould didn’t cut them to shreds from the stage, but he did make it clear that they were ruining the show for everyone else.

In-between the aggressive and loud interruptions there was a great comedy show going on. Cathy Sorbo’s song about being a cougar was really great. She moves like an exaggerated thespian, and her largely vertical hair danced a microsecond behind her as she ate up the stage. Dana was quick, and surprising. His jokes are personal, layered, and he’s at his best when he can get loud and quiet. Once the room was cleared of distractions we got a chance to experience the ups and downs of the show, and it was clear that Gould is a master at his craft.

In his interview with CultureMob, Gould said “[Seattle has] among the best audiences in the country. Any comedian would be a fool to not come up here.” I think that he’s right, and that we are good people who know not to shout out to people on stage when it’s not requested, who know the difference between a restaurant and a club. This was a fluke, hopefully, but boy oh boy did the jerks ever make an impression.