Los Angeles comedians address your problems and give you advice in this raucous live show.

The doctors are here… and they're fun.

Located near a Mobil gas station and Harbor Freight Tools on Hollywood Boulevard, this is one of the highest-energy live comedy shows in the city. Or maybe it's the funniest therapy session in town. Or both.

Comedian Mina Quarterman (@mina quarterman) performs at Coffee Confessionals in Hollywood.

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Welcome to “Comedy and 'Therapy',” a monthly event at the Coffee Confessionals cafe, where comedians on stage give advice to audience members in the crowd. It's much easier than navigating the patient portal. After purchasing a $16 ticket (no deductible), audience members have the option to scribble an anonymous confession or personal dilemma on a piece of paper before dropping it into a box.

Each show features six comedians: three who perform comedy performances and three who act as “therapists” for the night. Each of the therapists pulls a presentation from the box, then reads it to the audience before scanning the crowd and inviting the participant up on stage to the therapy couch.

Then hilarity ensues, and it's interactive. After the comedian speaks to the “patient,” the audience weighs in on the topic with green and red “thumbs up/thumbs down” paddles, often shouting comments or asking questions directly to the participant. The action is punctuated by booming sound effects (canned applause, the “wah-wah” of a mournful trombone, and a hyperactive electronic chime, among them) coming from a soundboard operator behind the coffee counter.

“Recently, a friend's girlfriend told me she had a dream about getting her pregnant,” reads comedian Chris Collins, after drawing from the box. “Well, if you don't like me, you're having second thoughts about marrying him. Shall I tell you?” (Ooohs and aaahs from the audience.)

Audience member Matthew Robinson, 36, hides his face with his paddle before finally taking the stage.

“Well, if you're thinking of telling him that I have to “Now, because this is on camera,” comedian Collins tells him. “This will be there forever!” (No pressure.) Robinson laughs as canned laughter from the soundboard fills the room.

Audience members cast their votes during the comedy set to Coffee Confessionals.

“Give your thumbs up if you think I should tell your friend,” Collins later urges the crowd.

“Yes,” most shout, waving their green paddles in the air.

“Nooo,” comes a shout from the back of the room, while a lone red paddle moves.

“A toxic guy in the back says don't tell him!” Collins jokes, as the room erupts into truly human laughter.

“It's a fun event,” says Jing Lin, owner of Coffee Confessionals. “But there is some authenticity to it. We don't call people on stage to mock us, but to help them overcome their problems.”

Robinson said later that night that his “therapy session” was really helpful.

“That was something that gave me anxiety recently and it feels good to have everyone say, ‘No, you should tell them.’ It was kind of a relief.”

Lin says she opened Coffee Confessionals in 2024 because she wanted to create a community around coffee, conversation, and vulnerability sharing. (There is a neon sign in the window that says “Spill Your Beans.”) Lin missed the coffee culture of New York, where she moved to Los Angeles, and has long had an affinity for coffee shops: She studied film in college, and coffee shops are where she feels most creative, and she often spends her afternoons there drinking coffee while writing.

Shop owner Jing Lin sits down after the show at Coffee Confessionals.

After about a decade working in marketing at NBCUniversal, Lin left the job during COVID in 2020 and hatched plans to open “a different kind of coffee shop.”

“I thought a lot about how to bring people together: how to make a new friend, a new acquaintance, without just talking about the weather?” she says. “It's really when you connect on a deeper level, when you're revealing something. Those stories are what bring people together because you find out 'Oh my gosh, I can really relate to what this person is going through.'” “That's why I wanted to build a store to reach those deeper conversations.”

Lin leaves stacks of “conversation cards” with icebreaker questions on Coffee Confessionals tables, to help spark a connection between strangers or those on first dates. “What makes a good and lasting marriage?” read one; “Where do you see yourself in five or ten years?” read another. There is also a confessional board where visitors can respond anonymously to prompts.

In addition to “Comedy and 'Therapy',” the coffee shop also hosts open mic nights, art walks, and networking panels, among other events. For the comedy show, Lin says she is conscious of hiring a diverse group of comedians, with a cross-section of ethnic and LGBTQ+ backgrounds, as well as a mix of emerging and established artists.

Janelle Marie (@iamjanellemarie) takes on the role of host for the evening. "Comedy and 'Therapy'. "

Admittedly, Coffee Confessionals is small but cozy, with hardwood floors, plenty of string lights, and just a few coffee tables inside. But that's part of the reason the “Coffee and 'Therapy'” program works. With around 35 audience members the night I attended, the small cafe felt crowded, standing room only at the back. The atmosphere was festive, social, and playfully raucous—more an impromptu living room performance among friends than a comedy club.

Comedian Janelle Marie, who served as MC for the evening, says the room's setup is an advantage for her as a performer.

“It's a very intimate space,” he says. “As a comedian, you get to look out and see everyone, work in public and really connect with people.”

Even straight comedy sets, without interactive therapy, were rife with intimate, yet humorous, confessions.

Olivia Xing, who is “made in China,” as she says, explained why she married her husband.

“I married him because he's Mexican and I know that if ICE comes looking for me, they'll get him. So I feel safe.”

Comedian Jordan Conley (@loljordancon1ey) offers some therapeutic advice during his performance with randomly selected audience members.

The golden box of audience-submitted confessions that comedians sought to incorporate during their interactive performances.

Towards the end of the evening, there was an unexpected confessional.

“I farted in the supermarket,” comedian Jordan Conley read on a piece of paper he had taken from the checkout.

Suddenly, a tall, lithe woman in a long coat stood up and walked to the stage. The increasingly funny exchange between Conley and Nicky Marijne, 27, covered the basics (Which hallway? Produce. Audible or not? No.) But despite the absurdity of the topic, the conversation was not without therapeutic insights.

Marijne had come on the show “just for fun” and presented her confession as a joke, she told The Times later. But the onstage interaction with Conley made her think anyway.

“As a woman you're not supposed to fart, but it happens. While [with] Guys, it's ha ha fun. But for us it's like 'Oh my God' and we feel embarrassed. So [this] “I had some therapy.”

After the show, one of the evening's comedians, Mina Quarterman, addressed the crowd for advice, as attendees buttoned up their coats and prepared to leave.

“Okay, so I had the crowd [at the Laugh Factory] Turn on me for something I said on stage. [recently]” he said. “And I want to know if you think I was wrong.”

The crowd leaned around her as she told a story about using a term on stage that an audience member found offensive.

“It caused a ruckus,” Quarterman said.

However, everyone at Coffee Confessionals seemed to agree that Quarterman hadn't made a mistake, and she seemed visibly relieved. “Thanks for [workshopping] this one!” she said.

Ultimately, whether you come to Coffee Confessionals for real advice, community and connection or stand-up performances, laughter itself is therapeutic, says the night's MC, Marie.

“Laughter is everything. When you laugh, like a real laugh, you are letting out your inner self,” he says. “It's true freedom.”