But the moment a female comic steps offstage, her power dissipates. She is a woman, again. A famous comic can masturbate in front of her and his powerful manager can tell her to stop complaining about it. In standup comedy, the contrast between those two states is so depressingly clear. We get to be the person onstage who we wish were offstage.

There’s a Hulu documentary called “Too Funny to Fail,” about Dana Carvey’s sketch show on ABC. Louis C.K. was the head writer, the guy who presumably did the hiring. When I started watching it, of course I noticed that all the writers on the show were men. And they are all great — not a dud in the bunch. But were there a couple of great female writers who didn’t even try to get a job on that show because they’d heard weird stuff about the guy who did the hiring? Are those women still in the business?

I wonder if there’s a parallel universe where I was born male and became a comic. Am I rich in that universe? Do I headline stadiums? Is my wife taking care of my son so that I can focus exclusively on my career? Am I better at networking with men because I’m not worried about sending the wrong message? Do I hang out after my show and have drinks because I know that will help me get work?

All new comics need the same thing: huge amounts of stage time. There are no shortcuts in standup comedy. The quest to become a good comedian is brutal. It takes at least 10 years of performing, almost every night. You get that performing time in at open mics, where you have to line up during the day for a spot that night, at open mics that run until 1 or 2 a.m., at shows where you have to talk two, or 10, friends into coming just so that you can have a chance to perform.

Both male and female comics have to do these things. But if you also have to maneuver around a problematic guy, you’ll miss some opportunities. If you perform 10 times a week and your male counterpart performs 12 times a week, he will get better faster. And because you won’t get paid work until you’re good, your quest will take longer.

Often when I am part of a predominantly male lineup, I will watch the women in the crowd. After the third or fourth man in a row, some of them look tired. I see them thinking, “Another one?”