Pete Davidson delivers a raw, but largely tame, show at the Troc

“I hear that this place is closing,” Pete Davidson said, deep into his second show on Saturday night at the Trocadero Theatre. Clad in a mint-colored crew neck, ripped jeans and a black baseball hat, Davidson, the youngest cast member on Saturday Night Live at 25, paused for a beat before pointing at an amused audience member. “Don’t clap! Or I’m never coming back here to your city. You’re not allowed to have fun at my shows. Well, this place is closing so I can’t anyways.”

Davidson, who has been touring with comedian John Mulaney, performed two shows this weekend as part of the Troc’s last series of events before it closes at the end of May. The first show sold out soon after it was announced on Tuesday. (Owner Joanna Pang has promised that the theater will go out with a bang, celebrating its 150-year-old history in style, although Davidson’s name is the biggest name booked so far.)

The comedian delivered an hour-long set to a raucous audience, which was raw and rough at times. It did, however, steer clear of any overt jokes about his famous exes -- Ariana Grande and actress Kate Beckinsale.

“The way that this works is that some of these jokes are for you, and some are for me,” Davidson said at one point, beer in one hand. “The second show always gets really weird because since there’s no time limit, all of the jokes are for me.”

During his set, the comedian joked about meeting BTS, the first Korean performers to grace the stage at Saturday Night Live, the fire that took place at that “big Catholic church,” and the Eagles’ Super Bowl win -- something he doesn’t think is ever going to happen again.

“Philly’s a weird city, man,” Davidson said. “Like every time you’re walking down the street, thinking, ‘Hey, this is beautiful, I could live here,’ you see something that makes you go, ‘What the [expletive] was that?!’”

Despite touching on a number of sensitive topics, Davidson never overstepped the line between funny and offensive. Even the jokes that felt underwritten -- he paused at points in the set to pull a rumpled napkin from his pocket -- were charming in a way that made you want to root for him, speaking to his underdog persona.

Davidson ended his set with a question-and-answer session after a series of 9/11 jokes that he acknowledged fell flat. (Davidson’s father, who was a New York City fireman, died in the attacks.)

“What’s your least favorite tattoo?” an audience member yelled.

“They don’t exist anymore,” Davidson snapped back, to the delight of the audience.