What did I get distracted by? The room was bright as fuck, and the front row had two old men who looked as if they had that smiling disease you see on bus stop posters. Big headshots of forlorn, sad looking souls who can’t smile. Terrible affliction, but you don’t want it in your front row. I tried to do my act but they looked so gloomy and broken it threw me. They looked like eunuchs. Like their children had died in a potato famine. What kind of lives have they led? One was in his mid fifties but the other one - fuck me. He looked like he’d seen action in the Boer war. His face was etched with two lifetimes of desexed misery. When he was my age The Queen was called Victoria and the women he fancied still wore gussets made out of weeds. I bet he reminisces about scoring pussy in saloon bars and playing billiards like a mad dog. He was an anachronism. His favourite act was probably Blackface from the 30s. I should have started singing “Mammy” and doing jazz hands. What was this cunt doing here?
And what about the room. Bright? It was like a fucking airport proctology room. Fingers had fucked more arses in there than Pentonville. The old geezer, you could see blackheads he’d pinched in the 60s. The other one spent the whole time stroking his chin. Body language 101: If someone has a look of concern on their face, and they are stroking their chin, that means: YOU AREN’T DOING VERY WELL. I addressed it and he tried to stop, but as I carried on he couldn’t help himself. His hands kept gravitating towards his chin. Either he was very very concerned about what I was doing, or had some kind of rare flaky chin disease.
To be fair they were nice about it, and I jest about their ages and gloomy dispositions. The audience were nice. It was me that was entirely to blame. I’m so up and down at the moment. I’m about as consistent as microwaved custard. In theory the constant gigging will enable me to get over that hurdle but it is pretty discombobulating. You fluctuate from one extreme emotion to another every single day. That’s what stand up is like: Bi Polar disease. That’s got to take it’s toll, right? Learning to detach from both good and bad experiences is key. I have to go now, it’s the weekend. I’ve got shit to do
Gig No.15 done. Actually, I completely forgot to take a picture this time so instead here’s a pic of a squirrel in a bin
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