I can't say that I've had to deal with that many hecklers. It just didn't happen that often. But in most of the places I've performed, if someone started up with me or any of the other singers, the management was on them like a cougar on a rabbit. One coffeehouse owner in particular, Stan, a fine performer himself, was really good about that. If someone got disruptive, Stan would come out of the kitchen, quietly tell them that whatever they had was on the house, and then say, "Now get out. And don't come back."

There was one occasion where a guy was trying to talk louder than I could sing—and I had the mike. I knew the guy. He was an ordained jerk. People kept shushing him, but he kept right on running his mouth. Stan had stepped out for a moment, so he didn't hear him, otherwise he would have bounced him. So I didn't try to be cute, I just took the direct approach. I paused in mid-song, leaned in to within an inch or two of the mike (which was normally about a foot and a half away), and simply said, "Alex! Shut the hell up!!" Like the Voice of God booming through the place.

When the crowd burst into applause, he got up and left very quickly. I never saw him again.

In a place like a coffeehouse, it's perhaps a little much to expect everybody in the audience to remain dead quiet while one is singing. But common courtesy demands that they keep it down and not disturb the performer or those who are listening. Usually someone at a nearby table would lean over and put a quiet word in their ear (something similar to what I said to Alex). On the occasion when a conversation became audible beyond a few feet and no one else intervened, I found that if I waited before starting my next song and just looked at them, the rest of the audience would also turn and stare at them. It was as if we were all waiting for them to finish their conversation so we could continue. It proved very effective.

Don Firth