Basement Secrets:
Life Lessons Learned Producing Comedy Under a Gritty NYC Bar
*Names have been changed to protect the innocent and the very guilty.
Getting Dirty and Loving It
I push open the door to the basement theater of The Derby & Clover bar in downtown NYC, and I’m hit with the smell of stale beer. It’s 8:30 AM on a Saturday, and I’ve got one goal: turn this post-apocalyptic party aftermath into a performance space before the cast arrives.
The scene is exactly what I feared: chairs scattered like war casualties, broken glasses glinting like glittery landmines. My shoes stick to the floor with each step, the kind of sticky that makes you wonder if someone spilled a drink—or lost their dignity. Today’s inventory? Three shattered glasses, eight empty bottles, and three wads of gum that have given up on life and permanently fused with the floor.
Is it too late to go to law school?
I take a breath, grab a mop and a bucket from the side storage room, and muster the kind of determination that only comes from too much caffeine and just enough delusion.
This is my life: producing shows in a basement that smells like it’s auditioning for a new scent called “Bad Decisions. Three years of Saturdays, scraping gum off the floor with a butter knife. But here’s the twist: I love it. It’s not about the sour mop water or the random pair of underwear I find tucked in a corner; it’s about what happens next. In two hours, actors will be here, the director will start yelling like he’s conducting a symphony of blissful chaos, and this grimy, sticky basement will transform into a place where creativity—and maybe even a little magic—happens.
And that’s where the fun is for me. Not in the strokes of the mop, but in the transformation, first within me and then spilling over like warm, sudsy water all around. I love creating a space where people can show up, let loose, and be their best selves. I’m literally setting the stage for what comes next, and what comes next is going to be amazing.
The Secret Sauce: Fun is the Je Ne Sais Quoi
Ever tasted someone’s cooking when they didn’t want to cook? Yeah, it’s like eating resentment. Now, my 94-year-old grandmother’s biscuits? Those things are magic. Even if I follow the recipe down to the last pinch of flour, mine will never taste like hers. Why? Because she loves cooking for her family; you can taste that joy in every bite. That’s the fun we’re talking about—the secret ingredient that’s invisible but always shows up in what you produce.
Fun is that little “je ne sais quoi” that everyone feels when they experience your work. Whether it’s a packed audience or your readers diving into your novel, that energy—how you felt while creating—is what people connect to.
Why Fun Matters
Joseph Campbell said, “Follow your bliss.” Other synonyms for bliss: play, joy, fun. “Follow the fun” is great advice when things are going well—like sipping a drink out of a coconut on a tropical vacation. But sometimes, the coconut’s missing, the sun’s not shining, and you’re stuck in a basement for the next 10 hours on a Saturday. That’s when you have to dig deep and find the fun. It’s in the little things: the rhythm of mopping, the satisfaction of setting up a clean space, or the camaraderie of a team that shows up despite the sticky floors. It’s worth your time to find that spark because how you feel while creating shapes the final result.
In Art
In art—whether it’s writing, acting, or producing—how you feel when you create matters. Ever read a book that feels like the author was just punching the clock? Compare that to something bursting with life and energy. It’s like night and day. When I write, I start with the screenplay and improvise character motivations with actors. Why? Because it’s fun for me. It lights me up and turns writing from a lonely chore into a collaborative game. Whatever your creative process is, make sure you find the fun, even if it means throwing the rulebook out the window.
In Life
Finding the fun isn’t just for art—it’s for everything. Take laundry. For years, I dreaded it until I realized that whenever I pulled out the basket, my family would scatter like I’d yelled, “Free tax audits!” Suddenly, laundry became my alone time. I put on my favorite podcast, claim the living room, and suddenly it’s not just folding clothes—it’s a mini-escape.
The point is, life’s full of tasks that suck, but if you shift your mindset, you can see a silver lining—or at least a good playlist to get you through. That same mindset can turn a disaster into a great story, a boring task into a break, and a messy bar basement into a theater where magic can happen.
Wrap-Up
So next time you’re faced with something that makes you cringe, take a moment. Find the humor, the ridiculousness, the tiny spark of joy. Maybe it’s in the way your team laughs at the absurdity of it all. Maybe it’s in how you’ve managed to turn a dump into a place where people want to show up and create. Or maybe it’s just in knowing you’ve made something better, one mop swipe at a time.
It’s not glamorous, but it’s real. And in those sticky, messy moments, when you find the fun, you’ll remember why you keep showing up.