Bar Stories Live On Stage

How the Night Works We don’t do a Sign-Up Sheet. In fact, when the show starts, we have no idea who’s going to share. And honestly? That’s half the fun! Some of you came tonight with a story you’ve been workshopping—maybe for a more curated, respectable, “serious” storytelling show. Others are waiting for the right moment, the right spark, the right *thing someone says* to jog a memory loose. And then there are those of you who swore—swore!—you’d just be watching. (You’re the ones we’re betting will end up on stage before the night’s through.) There’s no set lineup, no order, no “your turn is coming”—because that’s not how bar stories work. The real magic happens in the in-between moments. One story triggers another. A single detail—one offhand line—cracks open a memory in someone else. And suddenly we’re all chasing a thread we didn’t even know was there. So here’s how it’ll go: We’ll start by asking: *“Who wants to kick things off?”* You raise your hand. You come up. You tell your story—whether it’s something you’ve been sitting on for weeks, or something that hit you five minutes ago. After your story, we’ll open up the floor: · Anyone can ask a question, just like you would at the bar. · Then we’ll ask, *“Did that spark something for anyone?”* Maybe (often, in fact) someone wants to ask a follow-up question, seeking more detail, more context. Maybe someone says, *“That reminded me of something…”* and now they’re up here telling *their* own story. It’s fluid. It’s alive. It’s a conversation, unfolding in real time, not a recital. And if the thread dies down? We just start fresh: *“Who wants to take us in a new direction?”* There’s no more “featured vs. spontaneous.” There’s just *“next.”* There’s no wrong way to join in. Some stories are long and winding, some are just a minute or two. Some are wild. Some are quiet. Some are raunchy. Some are gut-punch vulnerable. Some are both. However it unfolds, we’re here for it—and we hope you…