Curtains, Calls & Crisis

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Ever try to do something ambitious, ridiculous, and kind of miraculous—and immediately feel like you have no idea what you’re doing or how you’re actually going to do it?

That’s me. Right now.

Two weeks from today, my improv group, Steam Room Etiquette, is putting on our third-ever show. It’s our biggest venue yet. We rented an actual theater. With seats. And lights. And fire exits. A theater where people expect something polished, professional, maybe even good.

The first two shows? Absolute bangers. Ninety minutes of unhinged, high-octane comedy. People in the crowd crying of laughter. Or just crying? Hopefully laughter. We had folks telling us it was the best improv show they’d seen. To be fair, I know for a fact it was the only improv show most of them had ever seen. Someone in the crowd thought we actually invented improv comedy. Anyways…

Why do I feel like I’m about to be exposed as a total fraud?

The Third Show Syndrome

There’s something about a third attempt of something that feels existential. The novelty wears off. Friends stop showing up out of obligation. You can't guilt-trip your old coworkers or your cousin's roommate’s boyfriend again. The social capital well is dry. Now it’s just you, your art, and a long-ass list of unsold tickets.

This is the test. Not just of talent, but of belief. Can you convince strangers to care? Can you sell without a budget? Can you push something into the world that only you believe in, and still make people show up?

Or are you just another guy with a Shopify store and a dream?

This is, simply put, the journey of entrepreneurship.

Here’s the thing about imposter syndrome—it’s proof that you give a damn. No one ever feels like a fraud while phoning it in. You only question your worth when you’re doing something worthwhile.

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So yeah, I’m stressed. I’m spiraling. My grandmother told me to get the New York Times to write about us. (“Just call them, sweetie. Tell them you’re doing comedy!”)

But I also know this is part of it. This show will either bomb gloriously or become the moment we knew we had something real. Either way, the lights are going up, and we’re stepping on stage.

Because at the end of the day, the only difference between a fraud and a founder is that founders keep showing up anyway.

If you’re in NYC June 25th - come and watch. And if you’re not, I know for sure you KNOW someone who will be. Get them to buy a ticket. This is a group effort folks. Tickets here —> https://steamroometiquette.com/products/sre-live-june-25-2025

Thanks everyone.