It's amazing to me how different the same show can be, two nights in a row. Like, it's mainly the same words, in mainly the same order - I'm telling the same story in the same room to the same number of people at the same hour of night, the LIGHTS are the same - you've removed so many possible variables from the scenario, but the difference between tonight's show and last night's was vast. From my first sentence last night, the room felt heavy, tense, hostile - the audience members who seemed friendly were a bit withdrawn and the extroverts were aggressive. Tonight it was the opposite - the talkers were bubbly, and the shy ones were just waiting to be brought out of their shells. How is that such a palpable feeling in a room? What are the signals and sounds and subtle signs that make such a distinctive difference? Any comedian can tell you the vibe of a room, and the very good ones can turn a room around. But it's all a bit mysterious and sixth sens-ey. And sometimes you think you've done a bad gig in a bad room and then someone comes up or hunts you down to tell you how much they loved it, and you lose all faith in your own judgment entirely.