Why College Sounds Like a Reality TV Experiment – Matthew Broussard

October 22, 2019 0 By Ronny Jaskolski

I do a lot of college shows, which, it’s fun,
but you have to spend a lot of time with college kids, and you forget what they’re like
because we keep them quarantined during that portion
of their life. But they’re, oh… There’s no consequences
for college kids. You can just walk in front
of oncoming traffic like a complacent Clark Kent. They’re just adorable,
with their MacBook Pros and their wrong opinions
on things. You know what I mean?
It’s just, like… People always give teenagers
a tough time, but, like, at least teenagers
know they’re children. Whereas college kids
will just walk up, like, “What’s up? My name’s Devin,
or something stupid. “Let’s talk about the economy, even though I’ve never paid
an electricity bill.” It’s like, no. Slow down, Atlas Shrugged,
I don’t need your… I don’t know, it’s… I’m not trying
to sound judgmental. I remember,
when I was in college, I was just a terrible person. One of the worst things
I did in college was, I was prescribed to a drug
called Adderall, which you guys… You guys party, right? Yeah. (applause) I didn’t like the effect
Adderall had on me, so I decided to stop taking it, but I kept filling
the prescriptions, because apparently
there’s, like, a huge market among college kids. So I sold it,
so I was a drug dealer, but in, like, the least gangster
way possible, right? Just, like, hanging out
in the quad between classes, like, “Hey, youngblood, hey. You want to get high? Grades?” I was the only person on campus
selling it, too, which was… I met a lot of interesting
people. There was one girl who was
trying to sleep with me to get free Adderall. Attention whore. (groaning and laughter) It’s more for me than for you,
that’s fine. That’s okay, that’s okay. The thing about college is, when you’re in college,
it makes sense, but when you go back
and visit college as a grown-up, it’s crazy. Like, I realize, at this point, I don’t even know how to explain
how college works without it sounding like
I’m pitching a sadistic concept for a reality show. It’s like, “All right,
here’s what we do. “We take human beings
during the four years “we’re the most physically
attractive and sexually able, “and then we put them
in an all-expenses-paid resort “with no supervision
and limitless booze, and then see if they can learn,
huh?” To… When you’re
a no-name comedian, to get booked to do
college shows, you have to do these things
called NACA conventions. They’re these giant weekend-long
conferences where you go and you showcase
for student bookers from, like, hundreds of schools. But because college kids
are so progressive, a lot of the other acts are people who talk about how
they’ve overcome persecution for their ethnicity,
for their sexual orientation, for disabilities, and then me. And here’s the thing about me, my appearance evokes
many feelings. Sympathy is not one of them,
you know what I mean? No one wants to hear
about the plight of a guy with resting rich face. It’s just not very,
not very compelling. There’s no one in the audience,
like, “I want to hear more
about his Kampf,” or whatever it’s called,
and, uh… (laughter) Well-read crowd, all right. The thing is, for me, the contrast makes it
very challenging, because I’ll be sitting
backstage and I’ll hear the performer
in front of me come out. And he’s like,
“Hey, what’s up, y’all? “Let me tell you what it’s like being a sassy transgender
Muslim,” right? And the crowd just explodes. Like, “Yeah, you’re my spirit
mammal,” right? And then she just crushes
for 15 minutes, talking about overcoming
adversity and early-onset Parkinzheimer’s,
and then… I’m next, and I walk onstage, and even though they’ve never
seen me before, I’m how they already pictured the bad guy from her stories,
right? The crowd, not on my side,
sea of contempt, just the death glare from a thousand
gender studies majors. They’re just like,
“All right, okay. “So what’s your struggle, huh? Talk about your hardships.” It’s like, “Uh… “People incorrectly assume
I’m good at lacrosse? Like, I don’t…” You know what I mean? That’s why I’m not edgy
as a comedian. I feel like I’m just
too privileged-looking to have an opinion,
you know what I mean? Like, I can’t walk onstage
and be like, “Black people…” It’s like,
“Whoa, there, boat shoes. “No, no, no, no, no,
uh-uh. “You don’t get to have
a bold stance on race “and the keys to your parents’
lake house. That’s not how this life works.” I don’t know, I feel like,
as a white person, that whenever I bring up race, it just sounds a little bit
racist, you know what I mean? Like, I used to do
recruiting work, and they’d send me around
the country, and this one time, I ended up at a career fair
at Dartmouth College. And while I was there, I saw
this girl walking around who was African-American,
very attractive, and she looked exactly like
this girl I went to school with. And I really wanted
to tell her that, but then a voice in my head was,
like, “Yeah, don’t. Don’t say that,” right? Because, best-case scenario,
all she is going to hear is, “Oh, cute, Zack Morris thinks
all black people look the same.” Right? So it’s like… So I ended up talking to her
anyway, and we chatted
for a little while, and I mentioned
where I went to school. And she goes,
“Oh, Rice, um, long shot, but did you have a class
with my identical twin sister?” And I was like,
“Wow, that’s crazy. “I was going to say something, but I thought I’d sound racist
because you’re black.” And she was like,
“No, but now you do.”