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Just as I was about to go into sex work I fuck up my beautiful face!
As predicted it's been an exhausting few days but in spite of still having a cold and my cut hand still being sore I was looking forward to tonight's RHLSTPs. First we had to go and meet the new head teacher at the kids' school (just to check in, they've been surprisingly well-behaved so far, though Ernie has been spreading his joke "Why did the squirrel swim on his back? To keep his nuts dry!" and thus marking himself out as quite a rebel in this quite religious school.
Then I went to the doctor to see if I needed to do anything about my 3 week old hand injury. She prescribed some antibiotics, but we also talked about my blood pressure and blood test results and I was not too subtly advised to lose some weight.
There wasn't loads of time to do my show research but
I enjoyed watching Ivo Graham's youtube special and clips of the Chelsea Birkby. I noted on Twitter that she often displayed her midriff on stage and wondered if I should do the same. Twitter seemed to be against the idea for some reason. Which is sexist.
We have been experimenting with doing the odd Tuesday RHLSTP to see if that can bolster slightly unpredictable audience numbers, but it was fair to say that it hadn't worked as today was maybe the lowest number of people we've ever had in in London. But the crowd was quality and we got lots of them, including a couple of nice interjections and points of order. Like the old days. Obviously Covid killed the majority of my ageing crowd, but the ones that are left are still great value.
Do come along and join us if you can.I was lemsipped to the max and also taking my antibiotics and thought I might be sick in Chelsea's show (no shade on her, she was relaxed and very funny and coped with my rudeness admirably), but I got through it all. There was also a fairly chilled vibe to Ivo's chat, though he was happier to discuss my good and bad points as an interviewer and human. I think my skill in this show is to adapt my persona based on the guest and this is why it remains interesting enough for me to continue for so very, very long.
The youngsters went out for drinks after the show, but I needed to get to bed as soon as possible and made my excuses and left. I got to the Q Park and scanned by QR code to get access. There's a sign on the door which says "Do not pull door" which I've often wondered about, because if you don't pull the door you can't go through it. It doesn't push. You have to pull it.
I have pulled it every time so far without incident but this time when I pulled it, and I can't tell you exactly what happened or how this is possible, the door swung with some force right into my forehead and nose. There was a clunk of metal against bone and I swore. It didn't really hurt, but I was confused about what had happened and worried that I might have given myself concussion. As I got to the lift I could see in the glass that my nose was bleeding and that a slit had opened up in my forehead too. As with my injured hand, that didn't immediately start to bleed, but slowly blood came.
Was I going to have to drive home with bloody pooling in my eyes. I didn't think I had any plasters or first aid stuff on me (though actually might have had some plasters in my bag) so when I got to the car my only option was to pick out one of the covid masks that we still had in here for some reasona and strap it over my forehead rather than my mouth. I couldn't cover the nose wound too or I would have been driving blind.
I felt utterly stupid for managing to achieve this unlikely injury and wondered what the fuck is going on with me. I have injured myself so often in the last four weeks that I am more scab than man.
I really wanted to get home, but I kept thinking about the dull thunk and the blood rolling down my face and worrying that I might pass out. Was this worth diverting to A and E for? Did I need stitches? I kept thinking about Natasha Richardson and how a seemingly minor bump had proven fatal. After speculating about the object or person who would kill me, I wondered if it might be the heavy metal door that you're not allowed to pull but that you have to pull at the Q Park. It would be a fittingly prosaic and pathetic way to go.
The injuries didn't really hurt much (which made me think it might be really serious) and I couldn't work out if the heaviness and occasional throb in my head was due to tiredness, illness or blood clots. But I got home and Catie went into action to clean the wounds. She told me to shut my eyes before spraying on some skin disinfectant. But she put too much on and it went all over my closed eyes and was going through into my eye and when I tried to wipe it off if just got wiped in more. This was much worse than the injury, but it made me laugh. It would be funny if I got blinded by her attempts to help me. Because of the spring mechanism the forehead was hit, because of the forehead the disinfectant was sprayed.... I don't know how I will finally pop my clogs, but I guarantee it will be in a ridiculous, sitcom and preventable manner.
Not today though death. Not today.
Plussers and Badgers and paid Substack subs - the second guest for 4th November RHLSTP has been announced in your secret areas/paywall bit. It's a good one. Do support the show by seeing it live if you can!
