How to Be Funnier

It's 10 p.m. and I'm sitting at the bar top in a restaurant in the Atlanta airport killing time during a layover. I'm exhausted, having spoken all week, and anxious as I'm flying back to Oregon the next day to see my grandmother, Dorothy, who has been in and out of the hospital.

To calm my anxiety, I pull my laptop out and start working on an event I have the following week. Before long, a lady in her 60s with a thick Mississippi accent squeezes into the barstool next to me and says with whimsy in her voice, "I know there are seats other places, I just wanna sit next to somebody right now."

I open my hand as if to say "be my guest" and keep typing. She sets her bag down, takes a big breath, and collapses into her stool as the bartender pours her drink. "What a year..." she says, clearly luring me into the conversation.

I bite. "Been a rough one? What happened?"

For the first time I look over at the woman next to me and see she is clearly tired. Not the kind of tired you get from missing a few hours of sleep, but the kind of tired you get from life beating down on you for months on end with no end in sight. "We lost my sister in a single-vehicle car wreck last February. She was my best friend, and I haven't been home since the funeral. That's where I'm heading now."

Before I can even process the weight of what she's told me, she hails the bartender and asks, "Are these good collard greens? Or y'all back there putting sugar in 'em?" Then she turns to me, "Certain people put sugar in collard greens. Can you believe it? The audacity."

I laugh and tell her I grew up in Oregon, and without missing a beat, she says, "I knew you smelled funny."

The conversation weaves back and forth between her family, the trials they've faced this year, and how it's clear there's no ham hock used in the greens she's picking over. At one point the conversation lulls and she says, more to herself than to me, "I need to go home. Just to put my hands on Momma, hug her neck. Squeeze her, ya know?" I shake my head in agreement. I feel sad for her, but I realize at that moment I'm no longer anxious.

As she's tabbing out, she asks about my travels and I tell her about my Grandma Dot, who I'm heading to visit. She stands up and laughs, "I'm a Dot too, but my name is spelled Darthy. I'm sure your Dot will be very glad you're coming home to hug her neck."

Darthy walks away, and I realize I'm not anxious anymore. Nothing about my situation has changed. Grandma Dot is still sick, and I'm still worried about her. I just spent the last twenty minutes laughing about collard greens and having heavy conversations with a stranger, and I realize those two things aren't as separate as they seem.

Humor has a way of making conversation easier. It can break tension, make an awkward moment less awkward, and help two strangers at an airport bar feel comfortable enough to talk about things that actually matter.

Most of us enjoy being around people who make us laugh. We just tend to assume being funny is something you either are or you aren't. Some people are naturally funny. Everyone else gets to laugh.

I don't think that's true.

You may never headline a comedy club, but you can get better at making people laugh in everyday conversation. Here are three ways to practice:

Pay attention.

Darthy didn't walk into the restaurant with a list of jokes. The funny parts of our conversation came from what was already happening around us. The collard greens were bad. I told her I was from Oregon. She noticed something she could play with and did.

A lot of conversational humor starts with paying closer attention. Listen to what people say. Notice the strange details. Remember something funny from five minutes ago and bring it back. The conversation is constantly giving you material, but you have to be paying attention to catch it.

Make the joke the joke, not a person.

There's a difference between making someone laugh and getting a laugh at someone's expense. If your joke requires another person to feel embarrassed, stupid, or small, the laugh probably isn't worth it.

Make the situation the target. Make yourself the target. Make the ridiculous thing everyone is experiencing the target. Darthy made jokes about collard greens and Oregon. Neither of us had to lose for both of us to laugh.

The goal isn't just to get a laugh. It's to create a moment people enjoy sharing with you.

Exaggerate.

One of the simplest ways to make something funnier is to take something that's already true and stretch it until it's ridiculous.

Your meeting didn't just run long, you entered it in your 30s and left eligible for Social Security. Your hotel pillow isn't just thin, it's a pillowcase with a rumor of cotton inside it.

The truth gives people something they recognize. The exaggeration gives them the surprise.

The goal shouldn't be to get a laugh in every interaction. Humor is simply another tool we can use to make conversation a little easier, create space for other emotions, and connect with the person in front of us.

Darthy wasn't trying to perform for me that night. She was tired. She was grieving. She wanted to sit next to somebody.

Somewhere between talking about losing her sister and accusing a restaurant of crimes against collard greens, she made a stranger laugh. She also made it a little easier for both of us to talk about the people we loved.

The best part about being funny is that laughter is almost always shared.

So crack a joke. You never know who might need the laugh.

Fact

Research with strangers found that shared humor can create feelings of closeness and make people more likely to share personal stories with one another.

Action

In your next conversation, look for one opportunity to create a laugh. Pay attention to what's already being said, then play with it.

Question

Who is the funniest person you know? How can you emulate one thing they do?

Quote

"Laughter is the shortest distance between two people." — Victor Borge