Tyler Ross

Tyler Ross stands on stage and openly admits he lacks the life skills traditionally assigned to adult men. He moves with a slightly defeated energy, delivering jokes about his own neuroses with the cadence of a guy making excuses at a party. If his car breaks down, his instinct is to step outside and give the vehicle a timeout, or blow into the ignition like a dusty Nintendo cartridge. He describes his daily decision-making process as mimicking the panic of typing and deleting a long text to a crush before giving up and just sending a GIF.

He operates out of Chicago but built his career on a distinctly grassroots model. Rather than wait for club bookers to hand him stage time, Ross organizes shows in breweries, art galleries, and bookstores. He frequently sets up gigs in apartment building common areas, performing for residents in rooms not originally built for standup.

He undercuts any attempt at looking tough. He tells crowds he only bought a motorcycle because he likes the physical sensation of being the little spoon. He maps out his confusing stepfamily roster, counting up relatives until he gets to his step-dog.

Ross started doing open mics in Ohio. Before making a full-time living from comedy and event production, he worked at a Chicago public school for nearly a decade. That past life shows up in his act through stories about deeply unhelpful conversations with crying kids.