No Periods Please.

My heart was pounding in my chest, my head hazy. Standing outside Dirty Dicks (Not a strip club) smoking a cigarette, I gave up in September and every toke makes me feel naughtier and naughtier, I wait for the man with the list to arrive.
He seems to take ages, about 23 hours pass before he arrives and I state my name - Rual Gomez - He repeats it 3 times (He got it quick) and then writes it on the list. The list had scary names on it, are these people better than me? I really hope someone really, really bad goes on before me. When I say bad I mean I hope the audience run them off stage and kick them out then a man with a dog strolls past causing the 'comedian' to trip and fall into the road where a truck skims them causing their trousers to slide to their and everyone points and laugh, bad.

Why am I doing this to myself? I  ask taking another drag of the cigarette. I could just leave now, but I don't. I could pretend to have a 'spell' that girls have and boys get flustered about, but I don't. Why are the other people looking calm - What's wrong with me?
I can't leave anyway, being an aspiring performer in my early 20's I'm poor as shit and I've just wasted nearly a weeks food on this train ticket so I HAVE to do it.

We make our way downstairs. I'm one of the lucky ones and I have someone to bring with me so I don't feel too much like a knob and if I am terrible I can just blame it on a drunken dare and 'I ain't one of those who pass up their dares, no sir!'
We sit and we wait - talking passes me until I ask for another aid. 'Can I have a Fosters please?'

'Ru, you're on 4th'. I nod and look at the stage again. Sipping my drink I look at my pal and give the 'Can't do anything about it now' look.
Then, the show starts.

My heart feels like it's going to explode, I'm not really focusing on the other acts but I notice they're pretty good - 'Hey! Where's all these first timers?' I think. I just about finished my mind sentence before my names called and I can't get out of this now.
'Hi! I like to tell you...' I start my set. It's going well! 'They have met me!' the audience titter. Shit, shit, shit - the next line escapes me. I have my set in my poem book - my poem books there to make me look like a proper artist, but it really just makes me look amateur ' Not gonna use this next time' I think to myself as I fumble for the page where my set is scribbled.
Ah! I got it! 'But i'm not a...' I carry on. All is good! I laughed the glitch off and it seemed to work as the rest of my set flowed with more energy and above all I was enjoying myself.
And it's over.
The fasted 5 minutes of my life. I sit back down all nerves gone. The lingering adrenaline helps me enjoy the other acts more. I sit back and relax. 'I'll only smoke to help calm my nerves' I say confidently while inhaling another drag, in the interval.

The walk back to the station was quick. I wouldn't shut up about it - as the person I went with was a comedian too, one with a lot more experience. He gave me advice. 'Are you coming next time?' I ask. 'So, you're doing it again then?' He replies smiling.