Days Without Alcohol - 76.
Just as I was getting ready to head up to one of my favourite cities in the UK, Leicester, my doorbell rang. I went to my video entry phone. A small man in late middle age was shown on the grainy screen. "Hello?" I said, turning a salutation into a question. I already had a good idea what he wanted from me.
"Hello," he answered, but that was no answer to the question, just to repeat it, "We are going round the neighbourhood to invite you to join us in celebrating the most momentous event in human history. Can I put a leaflet through the door?"
"No," I replied rather forthrightly. I had assumed that the man was a Christian and that he was inviting me to come to his church in order to mark Easter Sunday, when he believes that Jesus Christ was risen from the dead to save mankind. I don't believe that happened. It just seems a bit unlikely. If Jesus knew he was a god who was going to come back to life again and that his crucifixion was all part of the plan why did he say, "Oh Father, Why Hast Thou Forsaken Me?" Did he just forget for a minute? I would have shouted, "You fuckers are going to be in a lot of trouble when my dad finds out what you've done. With the benefit of hindsight you're really going to regret this!" But Jesus was less petty than me and kept a dignified silence, before shouting out to his dad at the end, worried that he might have been part of an elaborate practical joke.
The man looked slightly crushed by my outright rejection, but I didn't worry about it too much. One of the reasons I love my video entry phone is that it allows me to get rid of hawkers and religious lunatics without having to look directly into their sad or mental eyes.
Only as I walked away from the phone did it strike me... the man hadn't said anything about Jesus. I had made a massive assumption. What if he was in fact here to tell me about something else. Perhaps the momentous day was going to be the arrival of aliens to the planet and they were going to bestow riches and wisdom upon any people who were gathered in a certain place. Or perhaps the man at my door was a scientist who had developed the technology to turn a select group of people into superheroes. Maybe he had organised the biggest orgy that would ever take place on earth, involving all the most beautiful women in the world and him as the only man and he'd realised he just needed one other bloke to help him out with the million or so women he couldn't manage to get to.
I should really have checked with him that he was talking about Jesus before I hung up on him. Who knows what I missed out on? It will be terrible to tune into the news next week to find out that a new superbreed of half human half robot hybrids had taken over the world and made normal humans their slaves and that I had had a chance to be on the side of the overlords, but had let it slip through my hands thanks to my presumptuous nature.
Ah well, that will be typical for me. I always miss out on the cool, fun stuff. I only have myself to blame.
The non-stop whirlwind of my life continues and I felt very tired on my drive up to Leicester, but managed to do a good gig, before gratefully heading back to my hotel room to watch Seinfeld and do a Suduko and drift off to sleep. I continue to enjoy the solitude that last year I found almost unbearable and in fact prefer to get time to myself as soon as possible. I had a really big room and a lovely big bed too, which helped and I hoped that for once I would manage to have a little bit of a lie in, as miraculously I have the relatively short trip to Derby tomorrow. Followed by another easy flit to Birmingham. Almost like someone thought they would organise the tour in a practical order for a few days, just to see how that worked out. I am hopeful I might even make some headway with my sit-com tomorrow. It would be great to get that finished before the end of the tour.
