More than a school it’s a mutual support club for devotees of one of the world’s loneliest professions

More than a school, it’s a mutual support club for devotees of one of the world’s loneliest professions.Sam Cox is the therapist-cum-teacher who has been scraping a living single- handedly running the Comedy Gym for the past 10 years. A large, soothing man, he is watching Tricia on stage, a smile playing about his lips. At the tuna casserole joke he breaks in.”When did you write your stuff?”"This morning.”Sam raises an eyebrow but otherwise refuses to be intimidated “Let’s think of some more stuff from your own experience. What are 13-year-olds into these days?”"Thirteen gallons of hair-spray.”"Really?”"Oh yeah, they each have their own personal little holes in the ozone layer.”She’s ad-libbing. Sam takes notes and suggests she find a way to incorporate the ozone holes into her show tomorrow “You should slow it down a little,” he adds “Try to connect more with the people in the audience. Make eye- contact.” She nods and runs off-stage to a round of applause from her fellow students.Her place is taken by the little boy in glasses His name is Paul Quinn, and he is 11 years old.

He seems to be a natural show-off, who clearly enjoys being on stage but has an alarming tendency to forget his script. Fearing that he’ll go blank, he has brought along a crib-sheet to the rehearsal. Following the instructions set out by Sam in his one school text, The Comedy Gym Workbook, he takes his cue from real life. Adult comics introduce their jokes by talking about their mothers or husbands. With Paul, it’s “My little sister drives me crazy” or “My teacher hates me”. The punchline – “My teacher hates me so much she takes away my school lunch money” – doesn’t quite come off because in the struggle to read them he loses the flow. The adults, seeing in the child’s discomfort an image of their own worst nightmares, try to encourage him But they are laughing in the wrong places Paul, not a shy boy, squirms.

You can see him wondering, “Are they laughing at me, or with me?” Sam comes to the rescue.”So, Paul, tell me what’s going on in your life? What’s bothering you?”"Girls.”"What is it about girls?”"First they act like they like me They wink and smile at me. Then when I go and talk to them they say I’m stupid.”"I’ve got news for you kid,” a male voice cries out from the back of the class. “It doesn’t get any better!”"Yeah,” Paul says, revealing a quickness of mind that has not been apparent in his stage act, “my dad says, `Get used to it.’ “”Do they stare at you?” Tricia inquires.”Yeah,” Paul replies.”Well, that’s a sign they’re trying to scare you away I know. I do that,” says Tricia; upon which the whole class roars with laughter.Then some adults take their turns. They are under instructions to temper their language for the benefit of the kids They don’t. They tell jokes about lesbians, oral sex and the erotic appeal of fat women Tricia sits on her father’s lap, all ears He is lanky, pony-tailed.