Williams left his home in Ohio at 13 over a religious dispute with his parents and landed in Miami, where he says he supported himself stealing car radios and cleaning restaurants. His stint in a homeless encampment introduced him to addicts, many of whom had once been high-functioning professionals. The extent to which those stories informed his reaction to the drug rumors is in the numbers, too. He still does 100 push-ups and 100 sit-ups a day. That 40-yard-dash time, it’s denial through demonstration.
To those who accuse him of using, he says, “at some point, even as an idiot, you’re going to have to acknowledge that these drugs should be taking some toll on me. At some point, I shouldn’t be better and faster and stronger because of them.”
Williams has an allegiance to numbers typically reserved for athletes and actuaries, and it’s apparent in the quantifiable way he breaks down his sets. “I try to write the seven to 10 most [expletive] things that I think,” he says, “and I try to make that into the comedy show.” An hourlong special comprises 10 to 12 stand-alone pieces, which usually leaves him looking to add a bit or two as he’s writing. For this run, he says he’s needed to pare down what started as a 90-minute set.
On the road, Williams hones an act by watching footage of the previous night for the first 30 or so dates. “My job is to let this guy know, ‘Hey, you’re looking old out there, like, you going to work this stage?’” he says, adding that he’s most often not refining the words but the delivery — a bigger gesture, a different tilt of his head.
Williams has been writing and performing and refining in this way for 37 years, ever since he won a standup competition in Ruskin, Fla., at 16. The prize was a five-minute opening slot on a tour that featured Richard Jeni, Jeff Foxworthy and Dan Whitney, later known as Larry the Cable Guy.
“He respects the craft,” says Mo’Nique, who is touring with Williams for the first time on “Dark Matter.”