Thursday, 30 March 2017

London, Brighton, Hitchin, Peckham.


Today's been a good day, but a busy one, with a gig in Brighton to round things off.

I caught the train into London this afternoon to meet a potential PR for Edinburgh at The Ivy (he said, as if this was an everyday occurrence). Before arriving, I'd had visions of being turned away at the door for being insufficiently important; I was so unsure as to the club's rules for admittance that I meant to ask a friend who'd been in The Mousetrap at the theatre over the road if I needed to wear some sort of blazer-and-cravat combo or learn a special handshake. Thankfully, i needn't have worried, as a mention of the chap I was meeting didn’t provoke confusion or a punch in the face; in my life, you can't ask for more than that. 

The meeting was encouraging - and that, combined with me having watched a video of my set from last week's Mostly before leaving for London and enjoying the content gave me a much-needed shot-in-the-arm of confidence to carry me through the rest of the day. I made my way back to King's Cross to catch the train from St Pancras to Brighton feeling strangely positive for a man of my disposition; it was nice to know I had a long enough journey ahead to relax for a bit, read my copy of Private Eye and listen to this week's (excellent) episode of The Missing Hancocks that I'd had the foresight to download to my phone before leaving the house; it helps that the journey to Brighton is one I'm very familiar with; it doesn't feel that long to me now I've done it so often. 

(I'm rambling.)

Too easy.

I arrived in Brighton just after 6pm, with enough time to find the venue and sit in the park opposite, so I could flick through my notes before going in. I walked upstairs to find the gig's host and her techie in the room, setting up. We chatted briefly about each other's forthcoming Brighton Fringe shows before the room filled up (with more acts than audience) and the show kicked off. 

Brighton: the Meaning of Bowie's Life.

I closed the first half with ten minutes of an equal mix of new & old material, which went down well for a room filled with more comics than real punters. I said a quick thank you to the host and then sprinted out the door to the train. This sprint wound up being more ambitious than I’d first thought, as it was mostly uphill with a large flight of steps at the end of it. Still, it was worth it, as I managed to catch an early enough train to be home before midnight; all in all, it was a successful day, even If the burst of exercise towards the end of it proved I’m not as fit as I thought.

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