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Off Sick.


I cancelled an open spot I was set to do tonight, in fear that I may projectile vomit over the audience.

I’ve not felt myself since yesterday afternoon (not a euphemism). The nausea won't lift. It doesn’t help that my long-running labyrinthitis has reared its ugly, non-Bowie-related head. I feel like I’m on a fairground rotor. The timing isn’t great, what with Mostly Comedy tomorrow and my Soho show on Monday. Is it too late to find an understudy? I’d like Billy Pearce, if I have a choice.

I ummed and ahhed all morning before cancelling the gig. I wanted to do it. I had some new material to try out. Every bit of stage time I get at the moment is vital, to work up my show. It’s also a good gig to try stuff out. People expect to hear unfinished stuff; something the audience at Mostly Comedy are less keen on. I also didn’t want to let the promoter down, and mark my copybook.

I made the right decision. It’s better to take it easy tonight in the hope I feel better tomorrow, and better still by next week. The guy running the gig was fine about it. I’m sure someone else will snap up my spot; Billy Pearce, with any luck.

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