Tonight I did a stand-up gig in a restaurant. The words 'stand-up' and 'restaurant' don't sit together comfortably; they're the antithesis of 'Ebony' and 'Ivory', 'Stoppit' and 'Tidyup' or 'Wogan' and 'wig'. When you've settled into a booth in an American-themed diner to devour your BBQed rack of ribs, the last thing you want is some bearded git - me - talking to you through a mic in the corner of the room, doing material about AIDS. It's not an appropriate digestif. The situation could have been horrendous, if it weren't for the fact that the other acts were lovely, and the people who ran the restaurant were too. It couldn't be helped; sometimes an event has to go a certain way to know it shouldn't go that way again. Comedy needs full attention to work; it's not jazz (thank God). We were also treated to a meal on the house, which was a nice touch. Well, I hope it was free; i...
A blog from the actormusocomic. "Devastatingly witty" (EdFestMag)