In the smoky labyrinth of New York City, where dreams come to roast and occasionally bloom, Leah Reinhardt is the rare hybrid: a bartender-turned-comedienne whose wit is as sharp as the knives in a Michelin-starred kitchen.
A former bar owner, fan favorite at the Village’s Balaboosta, and now a rising star on the comedy scene, Leah proves that life’s punchlines are best delivered with a stiff drink in hand and a sharper tongue.
Born gay (and gloriously unapologetic about it) just outside Chicago in 1980, Leah didn’t always know she’d leave the land of deep-dish and deep denial. It took coming out in the year 2000 and the crushing realization that Missouri wasn’t ready for her brand of brilliance to spur her on.
Degrees in English and Political Science at Mizzou gave her the chops to dissect societal absurdities, while a six-month stint in London gave her room to breathe and study abroad.
By 2003, she’d traded the rolling plains for Brooklyn’s concrete jungle, armed with little more than hope, joy, and a dream of becoming New York’s most legendary bartender. And if surliness were an Olympic sport, she’d have bagged the gold. Two decades later, Leah had poured enough drinks to drown an army and heard enough stories to fill a library.
What’s a woman to do with that much material? Easy: get on stage and make people laugh until their sides ache.
Leah’s comedy is a heady cocktail of biting political commentary, absurd observations, and the sort of dry humor that makes you think before you spit out your drink. Her journey started at small mom-and-pop shows, where the crowd often included people she’d served a shot of whiskey to earlier that evening. But her talent—and that signature blend of grit and charm—quickly propelled her to comedy festivals, where she’s become a force to be reckoned with.
Picture Leah Reinhardt on stage: a tie loosely knotted around her neck, a mischievous glint in her eye, and a microphone clenched like a weapon of truth. She’s not just funny—she’s devastatingly, brilliantly, gut-bustingly hilarious. Her jokes cut through the noise, leaving you simultaneously doubled over in laughter and questioning the state of the world.
Leah’s story is one of resilience, reinvention, and rebellion. She’s the kind of woman who could make you laugh at your own funeral and still leave you with a profound sense of hope. In a city full of dreamers, she’s living proof that hard work, humor, and a dash of audacity can transform even the toughest gigs into a stage worth standing on.
Don’t miss Leah’s next show on Jan. 11 at Hill and Bay, 581 2nd Ave., at 9 p.m. And for your daily dose of wit and wisdom, follow her on Instagram at @leahreinhardtlaughs. Trust us—your funny bone will thank you.
