Friday, 19 August 2011

Day Fifteen: You Are Not Alone

I did a bit of brainstorming of ideas today. Even if nothing really came out of it, I felt good to have bothered doing something.

I did a guest spot at a friend's gig. She is having an awful time and can't stop crying. She's drinking to get through this experience, a luxury I don't have. It was an audience of eight people and she did well. I wasn't particularly well received but it's hard to judge. I'm glad that I'm not the only one feeling shit about the whole experience.

I ran off to do a spot at the tail end of Slappers getting lost in John Lewis on the way. I bloody hate department stores. They're like something from Willy Wonka or Hotel California, you can check out any time you want but you can never leave. The Slappers spot went well, the audience seems to picking up there. I only did a short spot of gags and the transvestites routine which went down well. I do like my one-liners, it's just difficult to know where to place them in a longer set. I should really write some more. There is a knack to writing them and it's not overly difficult.

MJ and I headed over to the same meeting we'd been to the week before. The Weegie secretary spoke at length again and I found it difficult to understand him, again. It was a meeting full of laughter and that was welcomed. I was talking to BFF Emily yesterday and was telling her that actually, all this stand-up comedy, all these gigs, watching all these wonderful comics, there's actually nothing more satisfying than having laughter with friends. It's not contrived and (mostly) egoless. 

Tasha had booked a table at a lovely restaurant with surprise menus. For starter, I had mackerel on couscous with a ginger something. They asked us if there was anything that we wouldn't eat, Tasha had said that liver was that thing. Our main course arrived, liver and bacon and ratatouille. Why bother asking us? Tasha and I heaved down the liver laughing and wondering whether the waitress had thought we'd said, "We definitely want liver." Over dinner, Tasha, Romesh and Robin were punning around food. It was great fun. Robin's "Rich people can shout but I'm too Portobello (poor to bellow)."... that was remarkable. I love punning, it's a favourite past time of mine.

I had to sprint to Gagstronomic and nearly threw up my treacle pudding on the way. I was MC'ing. There was a small audience but they were all sitting towards the front. I bantered a bit with a Californian called Chris who worked for Global Poverty (against not for but you know what I mean), a structural engineer from Manchester and (wait for it) someone who worked for the Tory party. "What the hell are you doing at comedy?" I enquired. We all had a laugh and the Tory shared that he had recently helped a Pakistani student stay in the country for her exams. Well done the Tories. Needless to say, he wasn't laughing much during the show.

It was a good show I think. People laughed including a load of Americans that were in. I was making them laugh by stopping my routines to translate certain words. 

After a second consecutive Gagstro, a few of us went out for a drink. More comics showed up and it turned into a bit of a gathering. It was good to catch up with so many people and hear how shit a time they're having too. There are certain people with the same miserable attitude to me and so I always welcome their agreement. A load of us headed up to another bar where comics hang out. I didn't stay in there long as it was busy, a wanted to sit down and I was being ignored in the trusty rape-proof jacket. I went outside for a fag and chatted to a few other comics about our jobs and missing our partners/kids/families. I thought that the whole festival was going to be more like that. I stayed too long though.

I headed off, watched six police tackle a drunken yob to the floor and arrest him as he was shouting, "You've broken my fucking shoulder." All this in the medieval-themed beer garden, you know how I feel about medieval-themed anything. I bumped into Marc Small, an ex-boyfriend of my sister who is doing a play and we chatted and laughed for a while.

And then I got home. The kettle is broken which is bad fucking new. I need my tea in the morning else I get a little bit shitty. How does a kettle break? Stupid bloody student digs.

Jon is arriving at 18.23 tomorrow. He has promised to help me flyer and be my security guard for Saturday night's Gagstro. I'm going to be dragging him round shows, he better have comfortable shoes.

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