You don't expect to be stuck in traffic for two hours in the early hours of the morning. Especially if there hasn't even been an accident. But the combination of the M1 going down to a single lane for about 8 miles and thousands of Foo Fighter fans making their way from Milton Keynes to London created one of the worst jams I have experienced for years. It was the last thing I needed. I was super tired and really hungry and craving the bagel that I had been day dreaming about since Leicester. And as the clock ticked ever onwards I could only think of the fact that I had two more gigs tomorrow, the first of which was at 12.20pm in Clapham. I seriously began to wonder whether I might just have to drive straight there. It was incredibly frustrating and slightly scary too, because I feared I might fall asleep, which wouldn't have been a disaster immediately as we were all moving at a rate of a mile an hour maximum, but once things got going would I be able to stay awake? And what is the etiquette if you're in a single lane traffic jam with no escape and are overwhelmed with fatigue? If this had gone on for another hour I might just have had to bed down and said fuck it to the people behind me.
Just when I thought it was going to be 4 before I was home at the earliest everything started moving and within minutes a motorway that had been gridlocked was almost empty of cars. I got home at three and was delighted to see my bagel. And also my girlfriend. Knowing it's hard to sleep after a drive like this I slugged some whisky and luckily managed to drift off pretty fast. Unless I fell asleep on the drive and everything that has happened subsequently is a dream I am having in the second after nodding off and before crashing into the barriers.
The lunchtime gig was at Jamie Oliver's Feastival on Clapham Common and I had heard tales of woe from comics who had done it in the last couple of days. But I didn't care too much about the gig and was looking forward to having an afternoon with my girlfriend for once. I had only had five hours sleep which wasn't ideal, but the sun was out and there was the promise of a barbecue.
Usually at festivals there is a comedy tent, but here the comedy was on the main stage, which just an hour before I was on had had some young people doing songs from Glee. This is in no way a good environment for comedy - not least because there would be little kids there. But performing gags without any kind of roof is difficult.
Ed Gamble was on as I arrived and there were only about 20 people sat watching him, largely from a distance. He struggled on manfully but this was not going to be a day where a comedian could be victorious.
I decided to just enjoy myself and carefully selected some stuff that wasn't too rude and allowed myself to go into chatty compere mode, asking if anyone was in from Kings Avenue or Abbeville Road where I used to live and then claiming that my act was just to ask if there was anyone in from specific places, starting locally and then working outwards until I had reached Australia.
I thought my teenage poetry would be a suitable bit too, because although it's about sex, it's not very rude and the sexual references would make no sense to kids. Unbeknownst to me as I launched into this backstage the stage manager was going apoplectic and threatening to have me dragged off the stage for fear of offending anyone. I blithely carried on talking about writing with girls and making them feel damp, without realising that anyone was upset. I did my new bit about how kids are incapable of loving anyone, even their parents and how parental love is worthless because parents are supposed to love their kids and would love them regardless of who they were. It was fun calling all mothers love whores in front of a family group, but again I think it was done in a cheeky rather than offensive way. Though backstage they disagreed. I fulfilled my contract though and did my time, doing a nice bit of banter with a three year old who was having more fun walking along a yellow cable cover than listening to me. Everything was fine.
In days gone by I would have been freaked out by this gig, but today I recognised that I was in a situation where I could only make the best if things and stayed cool and collected and did, whatever the stage manager thought, an excellent gig. And then stuffed my face with BBQ and had a cheeky afternoon beer. Lovely.
I passed a pond with my girlfriend and despite my one beer managed to resist pushing her into it.
Could have done with a snooze in the grass but had to do another preview in the evening, so pressed onwards. Three gigs in under 24 hours and a good five hours plus of driving. When do I get time to sleep? Tonight hopefully!
