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It all begins at Mingle's, a nightclub in Oakland's Jack London Square. Monday night open-mike comedy, known among regulars as "Section 8 Night." It's a tough room, but damn it, I'm a young comic trying to work my way up, and occasional bad shows and rejection are part of the drill. I get there with my fellow comics Jasper and Kris at about 8:45 on a cold evening in late December. It's a predominantly black crowd and everybody's happily watching the 49ers lose. The comedy show doesn't start until about 40 minutes after the game. Meantime, people are getting sauced and having a good time.

When the show finally begins, it's not pretty. The first few comics do all right. The crowd's vocal at the beginning but now people are getting rowdy, talking over the comedians. Jasper and Kris have excellent sets, considering the audience's rambunctious mood.

Then Lu Nell goes on. She's a funny, older woman who used to live in Oakland but now calls L.A. home. She definitely has the crowd, but the bar at the other end of the room is particularly loud and partly drowns her out. For one thing, Raiders cornerback Charles Woodson is there having a big time. Toward the end of Lu Nell's set, she pulls down her pants and reveals a thong between her cottage-cheese ass cheeks. The crowd explodes. Christ! How am I going to follow this?

I'm not a football fan, but I've heard that a Raiders player is in the audience. All right. I'm going to incorporate him into my act. It's risky, but fuck it -- the show must go on. I ask Jasper, "What's the Raiders player's name?" He replies, "Charles Woodson." I hear it as "Charles Wilson." After Lu Nell pulls up her pants and walks offstage, the MC brings me up. Before I go on, I yank my pants down a bit and cover my ass with my shirt.

Me to crowd: "What's up, bitches!!! Hey, everybody, did you like Lu Nell?"

Crowd: "YEAHHH!"

Me: "Cool. Hey, Lu Nell; I have something for you!"

Lu Nell [shouting]: "You ain't got nuthin' for me!!"

Me: "Oh, I think I do ..."

I turn around and show my ass.

The crowd loves it; folks are waiting to see what happens next. I know what they want, so I go right into my golden showers bit. The one where I explain why I'd let a super-hot girl piss on me. The crowd cringes. Perfect: No one would let a chick piss on him. Now it's time to bring in Charles Woodson. I ask a gentleman in front who he thinks is a hot chick.

Gentleman: "Tyra Banks."

Me: "Oh yeah, she's fucking hot. She can pee on me. How 'bout it, guys?" [Many shake their heads in disapproval.]

Me [shouting to the back]: "Hey, Charles Wilson! Charles Wilson!! [silence at the bar] Would you let Tyra Banks pee on you?!?!"

Bar: [muffled grunts]

Me [doing my best Charles Woodson impression]: "Yes."

The crowd erupts.

Me: "There you have it, folks. I'm not alone. See, after a tough game he hits the showers -- the golden showers."

I move on to my next bit, segueing into how my dad called me a faggot when I was a kid. No sooner does the word "faggot" leave my mouth than two big, stocky guys stomp toward the stage.

Guy 1: "What did you say?!"

At this point my worst fears have been realized. In an instant I'm staring at this muscular football-player type who may have had too much to drink and misinterpreted my joke. Later I'm informed that Guy 1 is Raiders running back Charlie Garner. He glares at me, inches from my face, with what smells like alcohol puffing from his mouth with every syllable he speaks. I realize I could be in for some serious trouble. I assume he's Charles Woodson.

Me [leaning into microphone]: "I think I'm going to piss my pants now."

Charlie Garner: "The jokes end now, muthafucka! What did you say?!"

Me: "Well, I was asking the audience --"

Garner: "NO, FUCK THE JOKES!! WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT CHARLES?!"

Me [speaking into the mike]: "Are you Charles Wilson?"

Garner: "No, that's Charles WOODSON standing right there! Now what did you say?! DON'T MAKE ME REPEAT IT AGAIN OR WE'LL SEE WHAT FUCKIN' HAPPENS!!"

I look to my left and Woodson is indeed standing there, right onstage, kind of grinning. I'm not sure if it's a grin of embarrassment or one of happiness that his teammate might be about to splatter me. At first the crowd thinks it's a bit, part of the show. But then they realize this is no joke. I look over to the table where Jasper and Kris are sitting. The look in their eyes says, "Man, you are sodead -- where's the nearest exit?" I soldier on.

Me [speaking into the mike]: "Well, I was asking the audience if they would let Tyra Banks pee on them."

Garner: "What?! AND WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT TO HAPPEN TO YOU?"

Me: "Well, I don't want to get my ass kicked, that's for sure."