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 are too.

And if you’d rather share from your seat, that’s welcome too.

We’ll make sure everyone who came here wanting to share gets a chance to do so—whether that’s one big story, or three tiny ones. Whether it’s a high-stakes confession or just a weird little blip from your teenage years.

What to Expect:

You might hear things tonight that make you laugh. Or squirm. Or cringe. Or feel a sudden, uncomfortable pang of recognition. You might hear something that makes you tear up.

You might hear something that offends you a little.

But remember—*these are people’s truths.* Their real lives. Their actual memories.

We ask you to hold space for that.

We’re not here to sanitize or tidy things up—we’re here to witness. To connect. To remember that we’ve all done weird, messy, beautiful, embarrassing things that make us who we are. And sometimes sharing those things in front of strangers is the boldest, most generous act a person can do.

So be kind. Be open. Be real.

Quick Guidelines: · Your story must be true. · It should be *your* story—or at least, you-adjacent. · Notes are okay—Just don’t read your story *at* us—tell it *to* us. We’ll meet you in the middle.

· Please be respectful—Punch up or punch yourself—but *never* punch down.

· Speak into the mic(!) so we (and the recording) can all hear you.

· Watch for the light—if you’re running long, we’ll give you a heads-up to wrap it up so others can share, too.

And finally—if you come up and share (even just for a minute), your story will be recorded and made available to you, free. It’s our little way of saying thank you for being brave.

We don’t know how the night will go. That’s part of the fun. But if we’re lucky, we’ll end up somewhere real. Somewhere unexpected. Somewhere strangers find common ground in the weird, wild stories that make us human.

Let’s tell some stories. Let’s see where they take us.

Welcome to Bar Stories Live on Stage!