7591/20530
I was worried about the toll that this part of the tour would take on me, especially given I am doing the driving, but the trip from Winchester to Exeter, whilst quite long, was not too draining. I left my hotel without breakfast, thinking maybe I'd stop at somewhere along the way, but I hadn't seen anywhere that I thought I could get a decent healthy meal that would do well on my Zoe app. I was one day away from hitting or exceeding the target of 75 every single day for a week.
But interestingly I wasn't really very hungry, which again is another testament to how well this thing works. I have started actually leaving food on my plate, which is unheard of.
In the end it was about 1pm when I thought I should probably try to find some sustenance. I was less than an hour from Exeter and the service stations all looked like exclusively fast food, so I took a chance and drove into Ilminster where I found a nice cafe (The Kitchen on Silver Street, Ilminster food fans) and had a prawn, mushroom and onion omelette that filled me up nicely. It felt a lot more civilised than a service station too and I had coffee and did some work for tonight's show. The people of Ilminster remained cool in my presence and didn't acknowledge me, making it look like they had no idea who I was. I appreciate that kindness.
Then on to another Premier Inn, where my room was, of course, nearly identical to the one I woke up in, leaving me occasionally confused about where I was and whether I'd already drunk the complimentary water. We're living the high life and are usually in Premier Plus rooms where you have a Nespresso machine and they leave you tiny bars of green and black chocolate, which is like leaving out heroin for a drug addict. But I have put them all in my bag to give to my wife as a loving gift on my return. I am strong.
Some more research on my fascinating guests - though I'd done some good podcast based research on the drive - and more than half an eye on York City, suddenly seemingly playing all right and winning their first game of the season - and then off to the Northcott.
I think the tiredness was seeping through - I was certainly like a bumbling slapstick character. The postcode I had took me to the back of the wrong building - then when I found the right place I opened the car door and a box of programmes fell out and scattered and a nice passing student helped me pick them up.
As I went on stage for the first time my glasses fell apart and I tripped over my shoe lace and I'd later knock a pile of DVDs off the table. I had earlier been admiring the wisdom of Spencer Jones on the Comedians' Comedian podcast where he revealed he'd realised early on how much information a comic's entrance gave to an audience. You can tell if someone is confident or nervous or a bumbling inept idiot. But I guess if the latter is your schtick (Joe Lycett had commented how inept I seemed at this job and yet how well that seemed to work - I wish it was a deliberate choice) then that's OK.
I felt a lot less tired than last night, weirdly and Spencer was an incredible guest, in spite of being nervous beforehand. He is a little bit naughty in the nicest way, but a decent man and a comedy genius to boot and his story is an interesting one. But mostly he was very funny.
Peter Richardson was not in the dressing room when I came off stage and I couldn't find him, but George the incompetent sound men said he'd watched some of the show from backstage and asked George which one I was. After about fifteen minutes I found him wandering around a corridor and he seemed a bit befuddled and confused. He didn't seem to know my name, plumping for some something like Richard Ferraday and again he was nervous and saying he wouldn't be funny as Spencer.
I told him that he would be and it didn't matter anyway as I just wanted him to talk about his amazing career. I was a little worried he might be too quiet and discombobulated, but it was lovely to watch him warm to the show and warm up and bask in the laughter and admiration he received. He is very much his own man, as his career attests, but he's such an important part in that group of 1980s comedians who inspired me to think that this job might be a possibility for me. There were some great stories and some funny jokes and as always RHLSTP wraps around the guest and becomes what they need it to be.
I loved meeting the audience after the show - they are really good people - I don't know what they see in me and I came back to the hotel to an email from a lady who'd heard my Ball Back podcast about the man getting his mortgage paid when he had cancer and realised that her own cancer might qualify her for a payout as she'd taken some insurance out. She hadn't expected much, but had received a cheque for £100,000 and was not mortgage free. Even though I didn't hit the cancer jackpot myself (though I have managed to successfully monetize my illness anyway) I was absolutely thrilled that this podcast had brought such a fantastic return to one listener. It was money that she was due, but she'd not realised until she'd heard about the guy who'd emailed in. Things like this- and the handful of men I know about who have sought treatment as a result of me talking about this cancer - are really wonderful and elevate my stupid nonsense into something that occasionally makes a difference in people's lives. Unusually for a comedian, not an horrifically negative one.
