I had a gig at a Christmas Party tonight. It's not something I'd usually do, as this kind of thing is almost guaranteed to be a nightmare, where no-one wants to see comedy and where things are set up badly, but I foolishly gave it a go. It was for the staff of the Oyster card help desk and some other London Transport thing. I am a big fan of the Oyster card and of London Transport going wrong, so was happy to attempt to entertain their staff under impossible circumstances. Plus I don't get an office party - aside from my not in fact annual
Christmas lunch (forgot to celebrate Nando's day this year), so I thought maybe I could pretend that I worked for Oyster card and kiss a secretary in the disabled loo. As long as the gig went well. Which it obviously wouldn't.
I knew this for certain once I had arrived. The gig was on board the Tattershall Castle, a boat on the Thames and when I got there at about 8.15 things were already in full swing. People were drinking and many were upstairs getting their food and a few were dancing to loud music of various popular artists of the day. No-one was going to want a rude comedian they had never heard of interrupting this and not was there anywhere set up for me to perform, no stage, no lights and a microphone that only stretched so far. I told the organiser it would not work and he told me not to worry that it would be fine, but I knew people would mainly be standing at the bar, talking and that from there they wouldn't be able to see anything if anyone was standing in front of them. And in any case there were no lights, so they wouldn't be able to see me anyway. They also wanted me to do 45 minutes, which I knew was massively too long for such an event, especially given that no-one could see me or would be interested.
As I went into the corridor to think about how I would handle this I saw a poster that had been put up by the management which gave rules for the party. Although it was light-hearted, I don't think it was a joke. It was an attempt to impose rules on the office party, whilst joking a little to try and take the sting out of this. I wrote a few of them down. I knew I could get some mileage out of taking the piss out of this and the bosses. Here are a few things that the staff were being asked to keep in mind -
"Do remember in a way you are still working, so present yourself in an appropriate fashion." Well that's a nice start isn't it? Here's your big Christmas blow out, but remember you are still at work, so don't have any fun of any kind and maybe if we get an important call we will forward it to your mobile phone.
"Do look like you're enjoying yourself, even if you aren't - you never know who is watching." This one is more like a threat than a piece of advice. And what a great way to break the ice at a party - make sure you're having fun or there is a possibility that we'll not see you as a team player and we'll sack you.
"Don't drink too much." Heaven forbid. At a Christmas party. That would be awful.
"Don't arrive dressed inappropriately." Maybe one to tell people before they turn up. Unless you hope they have brought a change of clothing with them. And surely the appropriateness of dress is an individual choice, without further guidelines this rule is meaningless. Someone is unlikely to dress in a way that they themselves think is inappropriate, but maybe with some examples they might realise the management disagrees with them.
"Don't make passes at other members of staff - especially if you or they are married." Now the management are imposing their own moral code on their workers and the "especially" slightly dampens the effectiveness of the original rule. Married people are covered in the first bit. But it's going to be a great party where everyone is being watched, you're not allowed to drink and you can't get off with anyone. What are the chances of people obeying this stuff? None. So why bother trying to dampen the fun with stuff that is common sense, but that everyone is going to disobey?
This one is good - "Don't photocopy or fax various parts of your body." To which I say if you have managed to bring a photocopier with you on to a boat in central London then you should be able to make copies of every part of your body. Clearly this is a bit of a jokey one, trying to make the management look cool and yet the final bit of advice shows that they are really being serious, "Don't phone in sick or turn up late the following day."
It should add - "Have fun! If you can think of anyway to do so that still obeys these rules!"
So I started with a routine based on this that went OK, but as predicted the party had divided into two unequal parts - the smaller one standing in front of me in the dark, laughing and trying to encourage me, the larger one talking loudly at the bar behind them. And it was a party so I couldn't try and tell them to shut up and listen, because if anyone was intruding it was me. But I felt I was doing well with the people who were interested and I just played to them and ignored everyone else and it went OK.
Though after about 25 minutes, when I had done my usually popular homosexual hand sign routine, one of the organisers barged to the front, grabbed the mic off me and thanked me, whilst another one channeled me to the back of the venue. I was a bit gob-smacked as I didn't think I had done anything wrong and had been quite enjoying myself given the massive limitations. They insisted that they had ended the gig because they were embarrassed that people weren't listening, but I think they had misconstrued the last routine as homophobic, which it really isn't - if anything it is against children!
I should never have accepted the gig though as I knew it would be like this, but it's good to challenge yourself every now and again. But there's little point in doing comedy unless the room is set up in a way that will give you a chance or you are at least being paid an obscene amount of money, which I wasn't tonight. Ah well. Happy Christmas Oystercard!
