Bingo Comedy Show
Hosted by Joey Rinaldi
café nine
New Haven
Jan. 22, 2026
The comedian onstage began with a joke about no longer being scared to talk to women now that he’s in his 30s. He lamented not having the courage in his 20s, when he “had abs” and didn’t need a hat to hide his hairline.
I immediately marked the “Body Shaming” square on my bingo card. Judging by the laughter, a few guys in the audience could relate.
The occasion was a comedy-format bingo night Thursday at café nine. The house was packed for the event, which was hosted by New York City-based (Greenwich-raised) stand-up comedian, writer, and actor Joey Rinaldi. The attraction for the evening involved bingo cards filled with different scenarios like “Obama joke,” “topical news reference” or “celebrity impression.” Attendees had to listen intently to each comedian’s jokes to mark the corresponding box on their bingo cards. Bingo winners, of which there were many, got prizes.
The bingo format added a layer of playful tension to the night. Audience members leaned forward in their seats, markers poised, whispering to one another when they thought a square might count. The interactive comedy had the room buzzing with the energy of people fully locked in.
Chris Warren, who has performed at Edinburgh Fringe Festival, opened the show with, among other bits, the bits that led me to mark “body-shaming” on my card.
Warren’s humor thrived on self-awareness and vulnerability, a combination that resonated with the crowd. His delivery was casual and confessional, as if he were working through these realizations in real time alongside the audience. He went on to discuss questioning his sexuality, joking that while he “wants to see tits,” his TikTok algorithm keeps serving him videos of femme boys, helping him realize he might be sexually fluid. He also shared that he’s been on a date with a trans woman, though he admitted there were moments when he found himself internally protesting, telling himself, “I’m straight, cut it out.”
The laughter that followed wasn’t uncomfortable or forced – it was filled with warmth and understanding. Warren wasn’t punching down or reaching for shock value; instead, he was poking fun at his own confusion and the strange ways technology shapes our sense of self. His set felt less like a provocation and more like an open invitation to laugh at the messiness of identity in the modern age.
As the night went on, more squares were filled, more prizes claimed. Groans erupted when a joke almost qualified for a square, and triumphant cheers rang out when someone finally shouted “Bingo!” Instead of being passive observers, the audience was active participants, heightening every punchline and callback.
What stood out most was how accessible the night felt. Bingo Comedy didn’t rely on insider knowledge or niche references to land., Instead it rewarded listening, curiosity, and openness. For a few hours, phones stayed in pockets, eyes stayed on the stage, and laughter rippled through the room.
By the end of the evening, Bingo Comedy had turned a stand-up show into an experience that felt like communal joy. It wasn’t just about the jokes – it was about being present and laughing together in real time.
