“When I was a kid, I was nobody. I mean, literally, other kids didn’t even notice I existed.

Whatever it was that made kids like each other, I didn’t have any of that, at all.

None.

You hear stories about girls who ‘become pretty’. Suddenly, out of nowhere, they’re the most important thing in the universe.

I know what that’s about.

The worst thing that can happen is that you become hilarious.

About age 12, I suddenly realized I could make »anyone laugh.

At first, it was incredible. I was the center of attention. I could totally take over a room as if those kids were puppets. I had them falling out of their chairs.

And I was laughing as hard as they were!

They had to establish a separate classroom, just for me… because I was like a nuclear bomb of comedic prodigy.

Over time, they let other kids in there. The class clowns and so on, but …

… I quickly realized that I was actually psychic. I could make jokes about what other kids were »thinking.

And it was irresistible.

In a way, I was »breaking the rules. You’re not supposed to be able to do that.

It was my one gift.

But what I want you to understand is that it’s the same thing as being really attractive. Or rich.

It fucks everything up.

Because you can’t tell if anyone sees you at all. In fact, you’re pretty sure they don’t.

It’s the opposite of the first problem, and at least as bad if not far worse.

They love something that isn’t you.

And they find this utterly compelling.

And you can’t stop yourself from caving to their adulation.

Every decent comedian eventually faces the terror of… the day they became hilarious.

I’ve never gotten over it.”

— Bobby Yingo in Private Conversation