The Comedy Tribune

You know when your phone rings before noon and you know it’s gig related? You’re a comedian, so obviously you’re still in bed, either asleep or drowning yourself in social media from the comfort of your pillow. But you don’t want the industry person on the other line to know you’re still in bed, so you thrust your body up, and quickly clear your throat for your first words of the day. I often wonder how seriously I take my own career when the cover photo of my Facebook fan page is a picture of nachos. But I’m still a comedian, so I answer the call, mostly cuz I have no idea what my outgoing voicemail message sounds like.

On this particular morning, it wasn’t the call I was expecting.

“Hey, Christina. How are you?”

I mean, that part is normal. The caller is someone associated with a comedy competition I did a few years ago- a good one. One that has actually put a lot of money in my pocket. He continues...

“I was wondering if you’d be interested in showcasing for cruise ship work.”

Oh god. This is it. I’ve reached the final level of stand up comedy, bypassing stardom of course. Obviously I say “yes,” cuz guess who needs money? Stand up comedians. That’s who. At the very least, the showcase is at The Improv in Hollywood, and it’s good to get a spot there. Maybe nobody will notice the boat on the poster.

Cut to today, when I’m seven cruise gigs in, thinking...

“Why is there a stigma behind being a cruise comic...? I’m GRATEFUL for this work.”

I’ve had some decent opportunities in my career. I fucked up most of them because my confidence is constantly on a roller coaster and I’m painfully indecisive. But now I’m at an age where I say, “YES” to everything. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from living in L.A., it’s,

“Just say “YES.” You can always bail later.”

But what started out as,

“Maybe I’ll just do a few...”

Is now,

“OMG keep em’ coming.”

I’m sure any comics reading this have heard rumors of what it’s like to work on cruise ships. “It’s good, it’s bad, the money is great, the food is free, I didn’t even know Curacao was a place and not just a liqueur.” I honestly know comics who won’t post anything on social media about working on cruise ships cuz they’re embarrassed of what other comics will think. I get it. The outside world thinks my life is glamorous, traveling and getting paid for it, but what they don’t know is other comics could be judging that. We are a mysterious work force. I guess I’m only writing this because I’m scared of judgment myself.

Cruise ships are definitely their own beast. I respect all the comics I’ve worked with onboard. You really do need experience. This kind of work would have been far more uncomfortable earlier in my career. It took me twenty years to write enough clean material to work on cruise ships. (Don’t judge me.) Luckily there are also adult shows on board, which I made sure to clarify about my first week.

Me: “Soooo... these adult shows... I can talk about whatever? Like blowjobs and stuff?”

Manager: “Yup. It’s advertised as an adult show, so anything goes. Oh... but try to avoid politics.”

Politics are the new dirty. Gotcha.

I’m always on board with two other comics, and the cruise line I work for knows how to book a good show. It’s basically just a road gig, at sea. It’s a comedy club, but instead of Niagara Falls, I go to Aruba. (Google my name and Niagara Falls and that reference will make way more sense.)

Just like any new job, it’s awkward at first. But awkward gets easy when your employers are paying for all your flights, hotels, food, cabs, and you have the possibility of sleeping with dueling piano players. (I should mention, contractually, you are NOT allowed to sleep with passengers. At least 82 people felt like they had to tell me that. I know where my reputation stands.)

The perks don’t end there. There’s a gorgeous gym on board that over looks the ocean. I end up using it WAY longer than I would on land, mostly because I’m bored. I’ve actually lost nine pounds since I’ve been working on cruises-not that you can tell, cuz I usually use filters and hide my ass/arms behind other people in pictures. Also, I’ve got to travel to so many amazing places, and a bunch of dumps I’m glad I never wasted my own money on.

But I should be fair and tell you other comic’s complaints, just so my positive review isn’t too one-sided. (Oh, if you shame cruise comics, “boat acts” as they used to be called, and you’ve never been offered the work, you need to check yourself.)

1. All cruise comics do is make fun of the buffet, and do cruise material that you could never do on land. I would never want to become that!

I still just do my act. I got nothing on buffets. In fact, I write more on the cruises because I know when people on the ships do like comedy, they come back every night. The comedy is actually VERY popular on board, but I feel bad saying that because I’m friends with the Eagles, The Beatles, and the Million Dollar Quartet. (My fave part of working on cruises is saying things like, “I’m going for drinks with Johnny Cash,” or, “Elvis bailed, he’s not feeling well.”) I’ve never found myself more motivated to come up with new material. That being said, if you make that audience laugh with your corn bread/“washy-washy” material, you’ve still done your job. IDGAF. You do you, I do me. (I’m not sure “Washy-Washy” as a catchphrase will translate to people who have never cruised before. I had never been on a cruise until working on one, but just know, they are very committed to staying virus-free.)

2. If you bomb, you have to go hide in your cabin for the rest of the week!

Well, I live in L.A. It seems like comedians go straight home after a shitty set no matter where they are. Being alone after bombing is UNIVERSAL! A world-wide phenomenon. In fact, some comics go straight home after a good set. We enjoy peace and quiet, and on the ship, the gentle rock of the ship can put us into such sweet dreams, it might be compared to falling asleep in the back seat of a car as a child.

3. I’m married. I have a family and kids.

Yup. That’s a GREAT excuse not to work on cruises. I’m a weirdo, single, childless, female comedian, so I’m off to the crew manifest. I can do this, with no guilt, no consequences. And make a decent paycheck that I can re-invest into hot yoga and blue cheese.

And how about a few specific perks, that probably only pertain to me, but please engage me for a few more prose:

Being a regular in Cozumel means I can go to the Pharmacia, and buy UTI medication OVER THE COUNTER! What an easier transaction than going to your doctor and saying, “OOPS, I DID IT AGAIN.”
You can create your own Fantasy Beatles League. A Paul from one ship, a John from another, a George from one, and a Ringo (he’s the one in the back). It’s one of my fave games. (I would also like Chris Bliss to come out during the “Golden Slumbers/Carry That Weight” medley and juggle. I swear it’s magical.)
I get a kick out of going to the crew bar. When I order my $5 bottle of Merlot, the bartender always says, “This tastes good if you mix it with Pepsi.”
There’s a crew movie channel where you can watch the movie POMS. Why did I never hear of this movie until I worked on cruise ships? Rude. I love Diane Keaton.
You might find yourself in 2020, alone, in bed, eating cheese stolen from a buffet, watching Notting Hill, laughing out loud during that scene where Hugh Grant says, “Whoopsy Daisy.” (Give yourself some time away from civilization, and phone reception, and this will be pure entertainment.)
Obviously I’m writing a reboot of Love Boat. (Anybody know Charo?)

Which brings me to a point that’s very real for me. I LOVE going off the grid. You can get Internet packages for extra money on the ships, but honestly, do I need them? Hell no. You probably see me on Instagram,“active 3 minutes ago,” or even worse, with a green dot beside beside my name so you know I’m, “ACTIVE NOW.” On the cruises, I leave my phone in my room. I talk to people in real life, or I just eat hot dogs. Either way, I’m pretty satisfied.

So before you go shaming comics for working on cruises, consider this: There are tons of starving artists working on cruise ships: Dancers, singers, musicians, technicians, wardrobe people, directors, magicians, artists, hypnotists, entertainers of all types... people who have become my friends. And I can confirm they are extremely talented.

We’re all in the same boat,
(No pun intended.)
We’re all just trying to pay our bills and support our families. Basic stuff. And also... It doesn’t mean we’re all not striving for something bigger.

I’m not famous. I don’t have the power of knowing everyone in the crowd came to see me. Every show on a cruise is a learning curve. There is a long, over due need for diversity in entertainment right now, but what some comics don’t seem to be ready for, is a diverse audience. I’m performing nightly, for people of every nationality, age, gender identity, sexuality, political stance, disability, sober people, drunk people, and often, all in the same show. It’s comedy boot camp. And when I can manage to connect with that crowd, I know I’m growing as a comic.

Do I still have comedian friends in my life who call me “The S.S. Walkinshaw?” Sure do. But I don’t care. Cuz at the end of the day...

I’m still making a living, doing what I love. It could be worse.

Christina Walkinshaw - @Walkinsauce