Want to start a club?

Bleed for it, or just be properly prepared

By Carter Grenier, Contributor

I’m Carter, and I started the Douglas College Comedy Club last semester.

The most dangerous and perilous day that I can remember is the first Club Fair last September.

At 4:30 a.m., I began to battle the printer to get my flyers ready. Like a good student, I did almost all my preparation for the fair that very morning. I had my bit all planned out—I’d be dressed as a doctor, and I’d be “prescribing” jokes to all the eager, club-less students! By 7:30 a.m. I made my way to the lonely bus stop in my area of Cloverdale. This bus only heads one way and only until 7:45 am. However, the bus didn’t show up! I was not stranded alone, though, so naturally I took the time to make some friends. The first was Graham, a family man who forever renounced driving to downtown Vancouver from Cloverdale every day. The other was Johannes, who had decided to take transit for the first time that day (talk about a bad first impression). To rescue the situation, Graham called his son Tanner, who drove our band of merry men to King George Station.

Once at campus I encountered another problem. I designed and purchased a banner to advertise my club, but I had no stand—Staples really let me down on that one. Since this was my only visual, hanging this banner was my highest priority. My dilemma was solved at the last minute, when I arranged to trade tables with another club, acquiring a corkboard to which I could tape the banner! Sweet salvation!

Despite my isolated location, the Club Fair was immensely successful. I was given a chance to speak in front of the concourse and advertise my club. However, I bombed the talk, as I hadn’t written or practiced anything—let that be a lesson to all you kids out there: be prepared! I was also up immediately after the Hip-Hop club, which didn’t help. Their perfectly choreographed dance extravaganza put me—and my ill-preparedness—to shame. Even so, the humiliating exposure was enough to do the trick, and somehow encouraged more students to sign up. When the Club Fair ended after lunch, the social adrenaline wore off. I knew I had to head for home. Once I was back on the bus, exhaustion set in. It’s a long trip to Cloverdale, so I drifted off. I had been awake since 4 a.m. after all.

My destination approached quicker than I had anticipated. I had little time to react. I jumped up and rushed towards the door. I got one foot off the bus when I heard someone yelling that I forgot something. The banner—the all-important banner! I whipped around to grab it, but I slipped and hit my leg on the platform. I snapped up the banner and ran off the bus before it quickly sped away. I saw a man in front of me. It was none other than Graham, my saviour from the morning!

“You just about killed yourself there!” he joked. He wasn’t far off. I look down and I watch as a gash in my leg dripped blood onto the concrete. Graham looked at it with concern, paused, then asked, “Want a ride home?”

Clutching my bleeding leg, I accepted. Tanner pulled up once more, saying, “I’m sorry to see you again today!”

We laughed, but all that time sitting in the back seat with so many bandages, all I could think was, how will I ever explain this?