Maybe two days of not drinking too much and eating healthy-ish food have already paid off, or maybe I just got a good night's sleep on my magical fairy bed, but I was feeling surprisingly sharp and alert today. Even the long drive from Perth to Chorley couldn't take it out of me. It was, weirdly for a six hour drive (including two leisurely stop offs), quite relaxing. It was a beautiful sunny day and the roads were not very busy and I was driving through gorgeous Scotch and Lake District scenery, feeling happy to be alive. This was in spite of, or maybe because of the news that someone I used to work with had just died. There's been too many premature deaths recently and it takes its toll on your heart, but then on the other hand reminds you that life is fleeting and precious. Up in the north of our fine country the sky seems wide and the hills are breath-taking and when the sun is shining it's a fine thing to be alive. Even if you're on your way to Chorley and eating your lunch in a service station that smells of manure.
Life is short.
And Chorley Little Theatre lifted my spirits even further. It was staffed by charming and enthusiastic people who seemed genuinely grateful that I had come to their town - even though I am the one who should be grateful for the invitation. And the theatre itself, though a little hidden away, covered in scaffolding and ramshackle was rather lovely. And with a capacity of over 230 not all that little (I had traveled to Perth to perform in a space with 100 capacity). And it was going to be all but full tonight. I am more than happy to travel anywhere in the country where 200 people want to see me (or apparently 100 people based on last night). So let me say it one more time, if I didn't come to your town on this tour it's probably because your theatre didn't want to book me (or we couldn't find a date that worked for us both), so hassle them about it, not me.
So even though in the show where I usually say "To give you some idea of my current celebrity status I was in the second last row of the celebrity enclosure at the O2 arena", tonight I said, "To give you some idea of my current celebrity status, I am playing the Chorley Little Theatre," I am delighted to have the opportunity to be in these smaller venues, in towns where not every comic is going to visit. There are times when it's raining and I am tired and there is a traffic jam that I curse my fate and think to myself that I should only play the big towns and let all you fuckers come and travel to see me. And give me a proportion of your parking and cloakroom tickets so that I earn £57 million from about a months worth of gigs, even though I am already wealthy beyond anyone's wildest dreams (I don't know who I am comparing myself to here).
But in reality it is gigs like Chorley Little Theatre and the Red Rooms in Perth that are what this job is all about and I will miss them if I ever move up a step in my career. And I'd miss going into the bar to meet the strange and sometimes scary idiots who have come to see me.
Last night in Perth I had felt weary to my bones and struggled through a bit (though think it was a solid enough performance), but tonight in Chorley I felt light and sharp and something about the atmosphere of the place led to me giving one of the best performances I think I've ever done of this piece. It came out crisply and my timing was spot on and I played around a lot and came up with more new stuff. I was full of energy again which I wouldn't have anticipated after all the driving, but maybe fruit and tea are actually better for you than chocolate and beer. Or maybe I have just turned a corner.
I very much liked the fact that the Front of House Manager at the Little Theatre comes to work in a black bow tie and tux (or at least a black suit). It's details like that that show a love and dedication to the medium. It's a tiny enterprise and from outward appearances the theatre is about to fall down, but they are taking it seriously.
Like I say. I am the one who should be and is grateful.
I hadn't been entirely healthy because I had a pizza at the next door restaurant, Parmesan and Pepper, before the show. It was very nice and the place was very popular, but I would advise the waiting staff not to give out the happy hour half price menu once happy hour is actually over as that can only lead to unnecessary disappointment. If I hadn't known I could get the pizza for four pounds if I had been five minutes earlier then I wouldn't have minded paying eight pounds for it.
It turned up very quickly and I ate it and left - making the strange man with the Hitler Moustache possibly the record breaker for least amount of time spent in this restaurant. The pizza was quite small (which was a good thing for me at the moment) but was on a massive plate which made it look even tinier. I felt like I had paid double for half-portions. But it was a good pizza and so I was still happy. And good to know that if you turn up before 6.30 you can get a cheap and tasty meal before heading next door to see some amateur dramatic production or a famous touring comedian like Chris Addison or Laura Solon.
Support your local theatres you chumps. You'll miss them when they have finally fallen down.
I stayed in the Premier Inn tonight. I wonder if Lenny Henry ever actually stays in these. I may get the chance to ask him as he might be doing one of my Lyric shows this season (possibly), but don't forget there is another one of those on Sunday, with another top line-up, Milton Jones, Holly Walsh, Lee Nelson and Chris Cox.
Book now!
