I did three gigs in quick succession in two venues very close to each other in Leicester Square tonight. The evening started badly when starving hungry I was forced to buy what I imagined would be the quickest available food, a slice of pizza from the wonderful pizza emporium, Pizza Hut (
in fact the very same outlet where I had another altercation a few months back - there must be something in the air round there. I am pretty sure I haven't been to this takeaway place in the intervening time). There was a bit of a queue and I waited impatiently, knowing I was shortly due at my first gig. Eventually I got to the front, looked at the poor offerings on display and elected to try the veggie pizza which I wrongly evaluated would be the least rank. Said pizza was duly delivered and I handed over twenty pounds and took a bite to discover that it not only looked like it was made of cardboard, it tasted like that too (and that's cardboard that has been left in the sun for too long). It was truly nasty, but I was hungry and had a long night ahead of me so carried on eating as I waited for my change. it took some short while before either of the men at the counter got round to dealiing with this, but finally -
"Do you have anything smaller?" asked the serving man who was of indeterminate European origin (I'd guess at Italian, but then any Italian would surely kill themselves rather than serve up an abomination like this masquerading as pizza). "Sorry, no I don't," I replied. He tutted at me like I'd done something wrong. "We don't have any change," he told me again with the strong implication that this was somehow my fault. They seemed to be making little effort to rectify this deficiency and meanwhile the queue behind me was building up with people desperate to consume this unpleasant foodstuff. "Can you hurry up and get me some change?" I asked a little testily, "I have to get to work."
"We'll have to go and get some from the restaurant," he told me, though seemed to be making little effort to do so. He and his mate seemed at a bit of a loss to be honest and I wasn't any nearer getting my money. His friend walked out the back but then came back in again with no extra change. "Look, I've got to go," I told him, "I came here solely because it would be quick and you're keeping me waiting. You'd better give me my money back."
He laughed at me and pointed at the half eaten travesty in my hand."But you are eating the pizza so you have to pay for it."
"Yes" I said impatiently, "But I am only eating this because it's taken you so long to get the change. And to be honest it tastes like shit." I informed the other customers of this fact in a loud and annoyed voice, but none of them left and just stared at me as if to say "We know it's shit. It's Pizza Hut. Duh!"
I'd been waiting about four minutes now, "Look, you have to give me my money back. It's not my fault that you've not got any change. Maybe if you have a food outlet open in central London on a Saturday night you should make sure you have plenty. But if you haven't got any, then you'll just have to give me my money back."
"But you have to pay for the pizza."
"I have paid, but you are unable to complete the transaction and it's my guess that in law that would be regarded as your fault."
"You show me this law!"
"Well I don't carry the book of all the laws of the land around with me I'm afraid" (though I made a mental note to at least copy down all the ones relating to pizza)"and you know, I can't guarantee there is a law saying that. But I can't give you the pizza back - not in the form it took when you gave it to me, though it's very close to making its own way back out - so you'd better either get me change immediately or give me my money back."
I was quite angry and thought to myself that this wasn't a great mood to be in for what promised to be a series of combatative gigs.
Finally a man who looked like he might be a manager arrived to see what was going on and one of the two men went out and came back with some one pound coins and I was given my change. But I wasn't happy. I made some sarcastic comment as he sarcastically apologised for the delay.
The gigs were fine but there were inevitably drunken people spoiling things. At the final gig, a group proudly conforming to that stupid and untrue stereotype of Essex folk were heckling me from the start. The compere was a very tall man and unusually there was no stage or step so I was at floor level and the difference in height was immediately noticeable. "Stand up!" shouted the Essex wag. This was the closest he got to a coherent joke all night. Later he returned to the theme in a way that shows how intelligent this fellow was. He said something that sounded like "Wage the other twelve!"
"Wage the other twelve?" I asked.
Finally he managed to get out what he was trying to say, "Where's the other twelve?" he slurred.
"What do you mean?"
"Dwarves. Where's the other dwarves. You know Snow White!" He laughed at his own wit.
"That might have been a good heckle, but there were only seven dwarves, so you should have asked me where the other six dwarves were if you'd wanted that to work."
He laughed as if he was still a comedy genius. I said "I'll tell you what. I will say you have won this battle of wits if you are able to just say a single coherent sentence that actually makes sense. It doesn't even have to be funny. Give it a go!"
He read out what was written at the back of the stage. "Comedy Big Night Out" or something of that ilk. "That's good, so you can read, but I am afraid that wasn't a sentence. There was no verb in it."
He then apparently spent the next two minutes trying to tell me that "comedy" was a verb. I told him that "fuck" was a verb as in "fuck off you twat!" But alas he didn't take my advice.
Later him and his two harpies who had been even noisier than him if truth be told cornered me by the toilets to tell me how brilliant they thought I had been, and typically claimed to have been helping me by joining in. The two women kissed me to show their appreciation.
A passing audience member said "How often do you get kissed by someone you hate?" which I thought was a good observation.
Another Saturday night in the finest capital city in the world.
