After yesterday’s front page euphoria follows fatigue. Zombies in the streets flyering in the rain. All pissed off. All pissed wet through. We draw more attention flyering in catsuits (Nigel & David excused) but have to be careful what we say about a show. We’re competing with 2.5k shows. “Brand new…” “Brand new… oh bollocks to you then.” “Brand new comedy on this evening, about a guy who pretends to run a celebrity gastro gallery but secretly runs a down-market stripjoint. The show pokes fun at the whole thing. Would be great if you can make it. See you at eight thirty”.
Our venue keeps overrunning its programme which isn’t conducive to cast, crew or audience. The poor audience shows up and is forced to queue in the rain on the street for forty minutes, and get fed up and some leave. Meanwhile the cast are crammed in to the disabled loo getting hot and bothered and wound up by it constantly being another 5 minutes until get in. Get-in then compromises 15 minutes of panic as to where the soup granules ended up last night and whether anyone has blue tacked the end of the dancing canes. Yesterday’s involved a last minute panic for grapes. No grapes for the hospital scene. Shit. Was sent sprinting around the neighbouring shops which are all grape free zones. Ended up buying chocolates.
Half way through last night’s show we had the lead singer of the Stranglers warming up his vocal chords in the courtyard behing our venue with such gusto that our whole auditorium was filled with his dulcet tones. Very distracting competing with a booming tenor half way through a urinals monologue.
Was so tired last night and washed out with hype. Got the bus home straight after the show and went to bed with my earplugs and dreamt that I was deaf.
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