Minutes before comedian Alfred Robles took the stage at a recent show, drinks were flowing and people were settling into their seats.
For about 45 minutes, it’s what you’d expect from a stand-up show. Jokes, stories and a lot of laughter.
Then Robles asked a question.
“If you’re going through something right now, whatever it is and you just want to get it out and talk about it, just raise your hand and we’ll take a shot together,” he said.
There is no shortage of volunteers. Hands go up immediately.
One audience member shouts out he got stabbed.
“You got stabbed?” Robles asked. “Who stabbed you, fool? Your ex?”
At Robles shows, where people come to laugh, some people also come to talk about the hardest things happening in their lives. They share stories about breakups, addiction, even domestic violence.
“I pressed charges,” another audience member shared.
“Why did you press charges on your ex?” Robles asked.
“Cause he puts his hands on me,” she replied.
So why are people choosing a comedy show, surrounded by strangers, to share some of their most vulnerable stories?
Robles thinks it’s because he’s relatable.
“I like talking about my problems … my family and my struggles,” Robles said. He openly talks about his father abandoning him at a young age in his act. “So I think that's what opens the door for them to tell me their struggles and their problems.”
Robles has been doing this part of his show for about two years.
“I just saw the interaction with the crowd and I said ‘this is gold right here,’” he said. “It happened on accident … and people now that come to my show, that's all they want.”
Sara Roldan thinks there’s safety among strangers. She’s a San Diego State University professor and bilingual therapist who studies Latino psychology.
“Studies have shown that when you laugh with a complete stranger, you perceive them closer to you, that if you were talking about something super painful first.” Roldan said. “When you are in community, you feel safe, wanted and also cared for.”
She said Robles isn’t just listening to people’s problems. He’s already spent most of the show sharing his own.
“The comedian is an expert in suffering, like machismo, alcoholism, all the isms,” she said. “We have somebody that looks like us, talks like us, and knows our trauma but we’re laughing at him not him at us.”
Robles also sees a cultural piece, especially among the Latinos who make up much of his crowd.
A 2026 study using National Health Interview Survey data found that only 9.5% of 4,417 Hispanic and Latino adults reported receiving counseling or therapy in the previous year.
“It makes me feel good and weird at the same time,” Robles said. “Good because they're sharing it and helping themselves, but weird because I feel like some people need professional help and I'm not a professional.”
So what is it about this kind of interaction that can feel therapeutic, without actually being therapy?
Roldan said it’s because comedians are present during their shows.
“They gauge their audience. They like see you and you say, oh, he saw my soul. So that's a way of feeling very therapeutic. But it's not therapy,” she said.
Robles acknowledges that.
“A lot of therapists hit me up saying like, oh, you shouldn't be giving people advice or nothing like that because you're not a therapist,” he said. “I'm just helping people out, you know?”
He hopes talking to him might be a first step toward getting help.
There is research suggesting that comedy, humor, vulnerability and social interaction can play a role in mental-health recovery and well-being.
A 2023 review of 17 studies of comedy interventions found preliminary evidence involving connectedness, hope, identity and empowerment, while also calling for more research.
Roldan said she sees value in that possibility.
“I appreciate that people is getting that aha moment of like, ‘oh my God,’ I do need to go talk to somebody,” she said.
Robles doesn't expect to solve someone's problems in one comedy show.
“As long as you tell somebody as long as they get it out of their chest, they're comfortable, and that makes them feel better doesn't matter if they’re telling a therapist or me,” he said.
They came to a comedy club to laugh.
But for some, at least for a few minutes, they also found a place to say what was weighing on them — out loud, in front of strangers.
Robles is performing at the American Comedy Company in San Diego Friday through Sunday nights.
