Mum and I had breakfast in the cafe, she swapped her beans for mushrooms within the set breakfast. She's such a maverick my mother. We went off to see a play that a family friend, Marc, was appearing in. It was set backstage at the London Palladium at a Black and White Minstrels show. The white actors blacked up for it and my friend didn't - not because he's particularly PC, it's because he's black. Mum enjoyed it but would have related to the cultural references of 1964. I just saw people blacked up, was annoyed at Marc for not being more forceful in his disgust (ok, ok, he couldn't divert from the script). I felt like it could have been set in any dressing room, why did it have to be at the Black and White Minstrels show. Marc said afterwards that he nearly corpsed when he saw the disgust on my face at one point. Glad I nearly made a contribution.
After that, we had tea and then headed out to meet a friend Jude, a regular visitor to the Fringe. I didn't do any flyering for Slappers and Darren, Jonathan and I took the decision to pull the gig at 5 when no one had showed. The first time Slappers had been pulled in the whole run. We were all glad.
Tagline: Typical Slappers "crowd" - two employees of the Walkabout plus a couple planning to move to Holland after university (l to r)
Jude and I then went for a drink and discussed my Fringe experience and how she is. She said that she had admiration for me that I've "done" it. It still feels like a slog to me.
I went home for my dinner, or "tea" as mother and I were discussing this morning. On the way, I saw a man combing his quiff. I'm not a fan of quiffs as a rule but if someone is walking down the street combing it, it's perfectly acceptable.
I had a bit of time so chatted to new mother Emily on Skype for a little while and Jon on the phone. I walked down to Gagstro, took my position on the Royal Mile and thoroughly pissed off beardy Hagrid man who claimed that corner yonks ago. Hannah said that he'd had a go at her. If he wants a fight, he's got one. On the way, I nearly died. The velcro hook of my pockets stuck to the velcro eyes of my cuffs; the velcro on my rape-proof is strong shit and, needing to run across the road in a hurry, I tried to take my hands out of my pockets, they wouldn't come out and I nearly tripped. Running with hands in pockets is exactly how my dad lost his front teeth. Beware.
We feared that we may have had to pull the gig (I say "feared") but just in the nick of time, a load of people showed up including a laughy front row. We were competing against Hearts v Spurs and Ultimate Fighting Champion. We almost won. I was MC'ing and managed to get some laughs when I did a sort of serial killer top trumps. A guy had said he was from Ipswich like the prostitute murderer, another said he was from Gloucester, home to Fred West, I asked if he had escaped by clawing his way out of the mud. It went well. Mark, Hannah and our guest all did well under the conditions and there's only two more to go. I. Can. Do. This.
I then went to meet an old comedy buddy and we had a lovely time catching up and discussing our plans over pots of tea. He's teetotal too and we talked about how we would do this festival if we were still drinking. Impossible.
I popped into the Library Bar, the hang-out for those who can't get into the Brooks or Loft Bars. Jack Whitehall was in there with his beard and his face. I bumped into my flat mate and hung out with him for a while before we came home via the crepe van.
Tagline: The sacred entry card to Brooke's Bar. It should say "Unpleasant" on it if it were being honest.
News came through that another flat mate had pulled a TV personality and was on her way back with him. I decided that it would be a good time to go to bed. I now have a clean duvet cover and I am pleased. Small mercies.
They've just come back and he's been introduced to the other guests by his full name and what TV shows he's appeared on, I love it! I notice an absence of classic staple TV programmes such as Holby and Eastenders. He can't be that good. I will now try to not hear them at it. Deeply disturbing.
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