But the venue wasn't suited to a young left-field guy. The next night, there were 30 people and after 12 minutes 28 of them walked out. So I broke out of my character and asked the two people why they were still there.
"Is your mother Carolyn Henwood?" said one.
"Yes."
"I think I went to school with her," he said. "Well, good luck with your season." And he got up and left. And it turned out the other person was a friend of the lighting guy who was waiting for the show to finish so they could have a beer. So we all went and had a beer.
At the same time, I was living with Flight of the Conchords, who were old friends from Wellington. That year they moved from being the comedians' comedians to getting the huge mainstream audiences which sent them on a trajectory into outer space.
I remember once I was sitting on my bed crying, saying: "I'm all the way over here and just cancelling shows and watching the money disappear." Bret McKenzie talked me through it, and gave me belief in my comedy. It was a very kind thing to do, which has stayed with me to this day.
It was one of those moments in life where you decide what you're doing. For some reason even though I'd had the worst two festival runs, I knew there was something there and it was what I needed to do.
I came back to New Zealand and it made me work harder. I knew I could get laughs but I needed to find out how. I changed my angle and what sort of stand-up I was doing. A couple of years later I was invited to the Just for Laughs [festival] in Montreal and that was a huge success.
I think back often to that moment with Bret telling me to have faith in myself.
And the whole experience was the perfect example of how you're either a stand-up or you're not. I had that bug and stand-up had a hold over me. Instead of doing something sensible, I kept going.
Dai Henwood is the host of All Star Family Feud, Monday, 7.30pm on Three.