A few months ago, a stand up comic friend of mine told me a story. We were having coffee and discussing her experiences in the scene, and she told me about the ways in which women are accidentally marginalized in male-dominated comedy spaces. Recently she had performed at a show with a male comic who told rape jokes throughout his entire set, while the audience guffawed and played along. While he was on stage, she wondered whose rape was funny. Was her rape funny? She asked herself if he had bothered to connect the two, his jokes with her daily realities as a woman.
That question would be quickly answered.
After his set, they began to talk while she pictured politely beating him with a sledgehammer. He mistook her kindness for camaraderie and when she later went to leave asked if he could walk her to her car — because…
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