For all that comedian Ali Wong talks about sex onstage, her first three specials emerged from a place of inherent sexual compulsion: a long-term, monogamous marriage.

In “Single Lady,” her fourth, self-directed hour, all the guardrails are off. Two years ago, Wong divorced her husband of almost ten years. Wong now tells the story in the same cheerful, graphic details she once used at the birth of her first child. “It really brought a tear to my eye,” says the 42-year-old, and has the anecdotes to show for it.

But with “Single Lady,” Wong wants to do more than just recount her exploits to an ecstatic audience at LA’s Wiltern Theater. The stand-up wants to reframe the middle-aged divorcee from a pathetic figure, according to the popular stereotype, into a triumphant figure, with herself as a leading example.

“Look how much fun I’m having,” she exhorts her audience.

Wong makes a compelling case, albeit less about the broader condition of mid-life divorce than about her own, very exceptional circumstances – starting with the fact that her own divorce was national news, an experience she calls “a bat signal mentions that notifies all potentially interested men. I was suddenly available.”

Those men, according to Wong, include a famous film director; a 25-year-old who sent the artist her first ever thirst trap video; a 60-year-old who screamed when he reached climax; a Japanese-American drummer; and a white man who couldn’t tell a teacup from a rice bowl.

“I’m not trying to trap a man anymore,” Wong explains, nodding to the central theme of her 2016 breakout special, “Baby Cobra.” Freed from the confines of obligation, she is free to sample everything the modern meat market has to offer.

“Baby Cobra” ended with a brilliant turnaround. Despite all of Wong’s insistence that she just wanted a rich husband to take care of her, it was her who eventually paid off her husband’s student loans. This lure meant that the money and freedom of choice it offered were key to Wong’s oeuvre, which now includes an Emmy-winning role in “Beef” as well as her comedy. Motherhood, Asian-American identity, and transgressive profanity are all signature motifs, but it’s wealth that Wong discusses with a truly unique level of candor and pride, in “Single Lady,” as he has in previous releases.

Wong insists that her suitors pay for the first date.

“I know that sounds crazy,” she grins. “Because I’m a millionaire.”

As such, she can fly her appointments to LA, outfit her home with Toto toilets and, most importantly, approach dating like a ‘financially independent divorced mother’. For most women, partnership is as much an economic institution as it is a romantic one. For Wong, dating is purely about her own desires, a mentality that most of her fellow civilians will view as aspirational escapism rather than a realistic model.

“Don Wong,” her 2022 special, showed a similar level of bravado. Of all the taboos Wong breaks, from discovering the gory truth about breastfeeding to working in blue while visibly pregnant, the unapologetic embrace of her own success is perhaps the most challenging of all to social norms. In “Don Wong,” in which Wong shared his thoughts on the secrets of a healthy marriage, this attitude flirted with complacency. And in “Single Lady,” Wong is still far from vulnerable: She opens the special by admitting that the publicity surrounding her divorce embarrassed her, but she closes the special by emphasizing that she is best friends with her co-parent and ex. The reasons for the end of the marriage are never discussed.

From her new vantage point, however, Wong’s confidence has a more challenging cast. When she dumps an affair, she is more interested in obtaining material than in controlling her date’s feelings; When admirers shower her with gifts, she has no qualms about accepting the free swag, whether or not she plans to actually date the sender.

One of the special’s few false notes is Wong’s repeated self-identification as “a kind of 6,” as opposed to the 10 men her age after the last time she navigated single life. To her credit and our pleasure, Wong is clearly neither average looking nor particularly gentle with others. One of the best bits of “Single Lady” is when she expresses naked condescension toward insecure male comedians and the younger women she has to babysit at various dinner parties. It’s not very sisterly of Wong to mock “Insta cover,” but it is a true expression of some less-than-PC feelings.

Wong’s fans already know that the title “Single Lady” is a misnomer. Since last year, the comic character has been in a public relationship with Bill Hader, a relationship she alludes to throughout the hour without mentioning her new partner by name. (She specifies that she can only spend serious time with a divorced father because she needs a man who comes “screamed in advance.”) This development gives Wong a nice ending and allows her to frame her exploration as a closed, finite chapter. she can synthesize in her act. Despite such broad statements as ‘for women, 40 is the golden age – for divorce’, it is clear that Wong’s last two years were as special as her talents. Not all divorcees will be as sought after as Wong is in the immediate aftermath, and almost none will turn their story into one as entertaining. “Single Lady” is far from an instruction manual, but it is a compelling testimony.