My first East Coast performances were an absolute blast!
Before the trip, I knew only three people in DC: one I’d known for a long time but hadn’t seen in more than 10 years, one I’d known mostly online but had met in person just once, and one I’d known only virtually.
Selling out the shows felt like a long shot.
Instead, all six performances sold out—and were even oversold. My show ended up becoming the festival’s best-selling production. There was no big advertising campaign or celebrity endorsement. It was powered almost entirely by word of mouth.
To everyone who came, told a friend, brought a friend, or posted about the show: thank you. You made something I never imagined possible.
Of course, the journey wasn’t completely smooth. DC was in the middle of a heat wave, and unfortunately, the A/C at the venue wasn’t working properly. When the room gets warm, audience energy changes. It’s hard to laugh when you’re trying not to melt!
The Fringe told us that if the room temperature reached 86°F, they would have to cancel the show. So every day, I checked the weather forecast, hoping for rain—not just for cooler sightseeing weather, but to keep the theater comfortable enough for the show to go on.
Thankfully, the shows went on. And the audience didn’t just show up—they showed up with energy, enthusiasm, and friends.
Performing in a different city always fascinates me because every audience responds differently. Even different cultures and ethnicities laugh at different moments.
During my three weeks in DC, I noticed something interesting. In some ways, Washington, DC reminded me of Japan.
Office workers wore suits and jackets despite the hot, humid weather. Events started on time—not just the Fringe Festival, but other shows and events I attended as well. And people seemed a bit more reserved.
One thing that surprised me was how difficult it was to collect testimonials. After my shows, I usually get plenty of people willing to record a quick video or write a review. In DC, many people politely declined.
But then something unexpected happened.
People started recognizing me on the street, in restaurants, and around the festival. They would come up to me and tell me how much they loved the show. Even more meaningful, they kept sending their friends to later performances. And I don’t mean one or two people—I mean a lot.
Later, several audience members explained why they had declined to be on camera or post publicly. Given the current political climate, many prefer to keep a low profile and avoid being visible on social media.
While I was in DC, I also got to tell a story at The Moth.
What a fun experience! I loved the atmosphere. Before the show, people were chatting with complete strangers. During the show, the audience happily bantered with the emcee, and it felt like everyone in the room was part of the experience. By the end of the night, it felt like one big family.
The theme that night was Revenge.
I originally had a couple of stories in mind, but my mentor, Jane Morris, suggested a completely different story—one I hadn’t even considered. I reworked it, practiced it (mostly by talking to myself), and decided to give it a shot.
The result?
I finished in second place… by just 0.1 point.
If you’ve been to The Moth, you know storytellers in the second half of the show often have a slight advantage because the judges have had more time to warm up. I performed fourth, in the first half, so I was thrilled with the result…although losing by 0.1 point still stung a little.
The best part, though, wasn’t the score. Every Fringe performance afterward included audience members who had first seen me on The Moth stage. They became part of the word of mouth that filled my remaining shows. That meant far more to me than winning.
That was a good reminder for me.
Enthusiasm doesn’t always look the same. Some audiences cheer loudly. Some leave glowing online reviews. Others quietly tell one friend… then another… then another.
In DC, the applause didn’t end when the curtain came down. It continued through conversations, recommendations, and the trust people placed in my show. Looking back, that’s one of the greatest compliments an audience can give.
I came to DC knowing only three people. I left with many more.
Thank you, DC. I’ll be back.