Hitchin's Diana Ross.
Either people
have started recognising me locally, or I look weird.
I guess it's not that surprising that the people
in my area might know my face, what with the comedy club I run, the theatre stuff I’ve done here, and the fact my band were popular in Hertfordshire back in
the day. I’ve achieved the lowest level of celebrity: I'm 'Big in Hitchin'; if
I could just break Cambs, Beds and Bucks, I’d be on my way to bagging Anglia
and the South East.
The downside to this bijou fame is I feel self-conscious doing mundane things, like buying toilet
roll or going to the doctors’. I feel like Wings caught in the
spotlight on the cover of Band on the Run: everyone knows the
sick, twisted things I’ve been up to (just ask my GP).
One thing I often
forget is how loud I’m speaking in a pub or a coffee
shop, and that I may be overheard. I’ll be moaning about a time I felt
slighted, or orating my opinion of a gig or a venue, without considering whose
ears may be around me. It’s like a shit version of the WW2 ‘Careless Talk
Costs Lives’ campaign, with the Town Centre Manager in place of Hitler; imagine
what it would be like if the local paper knew my controversial
standpoint; I’d never waitress in Torquay again.
This must be what
it’s like to be Justin Bieber, or Billy Pierce.