The Junction in Cambridge tonight. Stiff Little Fingers were in the next door venue. What would the teenage me make of me sharing a bill (kind of) with SLF? HE would be confused and scared by the information I suspect, especially when he heard how old we would all be.
I saw the drummer in the car park outside. He looked at me like I was crazy or something. Come on you old punks. Ain't you seen anyone with a Hitler moustache before. Let's smash society.
Second night in a row that I had sold out, but where quite a few ticket holders had not shown up - and once again the empty seats were near the front, which makes my job harder.
A few people drifted in to fill them in the first ten minutes and then, maybe 15 minutes in, just as I was approaching the Maddie gag, a large gaggle of women ranging in age from mid-20s to mid-50s came in and with nowhere else to rest their bottoms had to come to the front row. Up until then only one portly slightly nerdy gentleman called Al(the typical Richard Herring fan and not too unlike Richard Herring himself) was the only person brave enough to come within spitting distance of me. These ladies were rather glammed up, all dressed in swish black dresses, with feathers in their hair and I commented how that had improved the attractiveness of the front row. The looked rather outlandish, slightly New Romantic possibly and I assumed (correctly) that they were a hen night, though I would later say that they looked a bit like a sort of (incorrect) Terminator style idea of what partying pr street people of the near future might look like.
I didn't know why a hen night would have booked in to see this show, given the title and the poster, it didn't seem like a cock-shaped barrel of laughs and it was a shame they had missed the preamble and were straight into a joke about an abducted child. One of the more middle-aged ladies pulled a sour face that did not disappear from her face for the rest of the evening. Some of the younger women were laughing along, but slightly drunkenly and inappropriately. I think one of them enjoyed my usage of the word "Paki" in an unironic way. I had a very tiny glimpse into the world of Al Murray. I pressed on, though was pretty sure none of them would be back after the interval.
I was proven right. Although I feared they might decide to come back in fifteen minutes late to create some symmetry.
It was a fun gig that apart followed by another slightly delayed drive home, where I perhaps foolishly chose the roadwork strewn M11 rather than the A1. But I was home by 12.30 and drinking wine with my girlfriend, trying not to think about the next 8 days away from home.
It's a week until the DVD record at Chapter Arts in Cardiff (tickets still available for both performances). I think the show is in pretty good shape and I am still enjoying it. Hopeful that this one will be the best one yet!
