After my enjoyable and relatively easy two week residency in London I was back on the road this afternoon and heading to the Warwick Arts Centre. Last year I had been quite rude about the welcome I had received at the venue, on both Twitter
and my blog, with nothing laid on for me and a somewhat bolshie and jobsworth front of house manager.
This time I had prepared ahead and got myself a sandwich and some fruit, but even with experience dictating this was sensible, Herring's first law of touring came into force and there was an impressive spread (almost sarcastically so) of three platters of sandwiches, bottles of water and beer and even flasks of coffee and hot water. So I take it all back. These people are lovely.
Maybe my blog has more power than I realised. But I ate my own sandwich anyway.
However, I realised too late that there was no toilet paper in the loo in my dressing room. This was the venues subtle and clever revenge on me for being so stroppy. You can't have everything.
But next year, Warwick, how about some loo paper? It's probably best to communicate via the internet. Ultimately I will have to talk to no one.
Luckily I didn't have to resort to cleaning myself up with uneaten sandwiches (which might have been a little insulting) as there was a serviette to save me any further embarrassment.
I promise to take at least a week off from discussing toilet business after this scatological last few days.
My romantic show had sold out some weeks ago (so hopefully next year they will move me up to the bigger venue, though the same thing happened last year and I was still in the studio), though it must be remembered that most of my audience are solitary nerds who already only communicate via the internet and have never experienced human intimacy. Which is why you'll never see my gigging on St Skeletor's Day (15th Feb as if any of you needed to be reminded).
It was a nice enough gig, though the audience seemed quiet to me, but I think it's just the layout of the room as I got some nice comments afterwards.
Weirdly enough even after a two hour drive I was home earlier than I have been from any of the London gigs. But I was home to enjoy a St Valentine's glass of champagne with my girlfriend before midnight and then some pressed sour grape juice after midnight in honour of St Skeletor.
Also slightly amazed to discover that Amazon is now offering
the box set of every episode of Time Gentlemen Please for £3.98. It's out of stock at the moment, but that's less than 12p an episode. It's definitely worth that. I saw one the other day and enjoyed it greatly. It may be one of the best undiscovered sit-coms ever. But I am a bit biased.
