This essay is based on a delightful chat with Ricci Armani, a 33-year-old comedian hustling in Seattle. It’s been expertly trimmed for your convenience, like a bad haircut from your least favorite stylist.
The Day I Became a Full-Time Comedian (Accidentally)
In late 2022, I had a spontaneous revelation while chatting with my boyfriend: “One day, I might earn less money because I’ll pick comedy over corporate drudgery.” Spoiler alert: the next morning, I was laid off from my cozy spot at Amazon, as if the universe handed me a resume-writing guide titled “How to Derail Your Stable Job.” Talk about foreshadowing.
Terrifying? Absolutely. But to be honest, it felt like a cosmic sign that I was destined for the spotlight (or maybe just a really dim stage with questionable lighting). Sure, I had to take a part-time retail gig to pay the bills, but at least I wasn’t answering emails like some sort of corporate zombie—I’d traded that for existential dread and mic anxiety. If I ever find myself back in an office cubicle or, heaven forbid, fail to become a stand-up sensation, I can proudly declare, “I tried. At least I have some solid jokes about my financial ruin.”
Using My Severance Package Like a Comedy Rocket Booster
My career at Amazon began as a contractor in 2020, a role that later blossomed into full-time employment. At first, comedy was just my whimsical side gig—like that weird collection of ceramic frogs that your aunt insists you’ll love. Then came the layoff package, the golden ticket—I figured, why not launch my comedy career like a frantic toddler on a sugar high? I decided to embrace the chaos and spent my severance with all the wisdom of a raccoon in a dumpster.
Fear gripped me like a toddler in a haunted house, especially when everyone was moaning about the job market being as dead as a doornail. After stints in the working world since age 16, at 30, I was stumbling into uncharted territory more prepared for a quiz show than a career. But honestly? It felt liberating, like shredding a report card that held me back from pursuing my dreams. Goodbye, corporate shackles—hello, life’s absurd comedy!
Why Pursuing Comedy Feels Like an Exercise in Delusion
Here’s the kicker—at the time of my layoff, I had a paltry 2,000 Instagram followers and was a TikTok ghost. For aspiring stand-up comics, followers often act as a bulging bank account, and yet there I was, feeling about as relevant as a flip phone in 2023. Who was I kidding, declaring myself a full-time comedian? But my delusions powered my engine, fueled by caffeine and questionable life choices.
Despite the urge to pile on the self-doubt like a vintage vinyl collection, I believed that persistence would reward me with something shiny at the end or at least a mildly amusing anecdote. I plotted out a social media content strategy (which made me feel like a corporate strategist), rocked local gigs like my life depended on it, and even sought sage wisdom from established comedians. I’d hit the jackpot with mentors—like finding a winning lottery ticket, minus the millions but plus the dad jokes.
My Live Show: A Roller Coaster of Mediocrity
Performing locally taught me a vital lesson: selling tickets isn’t quite as easy as selling lemonade on a sunny day. So, to keep the cash flowing, I snagged a retail job—advice for anyone in the same boat: find part-time work that doesn’t offer you the luxury of taking it home. Six months post-layoff, my live show “My Straight Friends” was born, where I subject straight comedians to an interrogation on gay culture—a noble endeavor, really.
Testing it out at a local venue, I realized it had all the charm of a root canal. Ticket sales? Barely a trickle. Yet somehow, it felt right, a bizarre satisfaction, like discovering an old pizza slice in your fridge that’s fine to eat. I persisted, and voilà! Now I’m flitting around various states for shows, my dreams slowly coming to fruition. Or at least somewhat resembling a sapling struggling under the weight of a heavy cloud.
Reality Check: Doubt Is My New Best Friend
Self-doubt crashed into my life last year like an uninvited guest. I realized that the comedy world is precariously scarce, and breaking through feels like trying to squeeze into your skinny jeans after a hefty holiday feast. Income variability has become my not-so-fun companion, with some shows costing me more than a new pair of shoes. Oh, the irony!
Back to basics, I’ve sought guidance from those ahead in the game, trying not to lose myself in delusional fantasies. Starting anew is tough, but lurking shadows of doubt remind me that even in a world of humor, hard truths sit silently in the corner. My commitment to the craft remains strong, as I prepare to knock on the doors of national and international comedy festivals this year—fingers crossed and punchlines ready!
Layoff Wisdom: Seek Guidance and Embrace the Absurd
If you find yourself jobless and lovin’ it, reach out for mentorship. Seriously, the most valuable thing I did post-layoff was learning from seasoned pros instead of trying to navigate this labyrinth alone. It’s like using GPS instead of walking into a dark alley hoping for the best (which I don’t recommend).
If there’s one nugget of wisdom I wished for during that time, it’s simply: Trust yourself and trust the process. I know it sounds corny, like a motivational poster in an office, and yet there’s something fundamentally correct about it. Survey the landscape—are the signs pointing to success? If not, time to pivot! Keep moving forward, even if forward feels like a two-step waltz in a mosh pit.
Got a story about navigating a layoff at Amazon? Share it with me at tmartinelli@businessinsider.com. It might just become fodder for my next set!
