After the second gig in Leicester tonight, Simon and me decided to go out on the town. However, we couldnÂ’t really work out what to do. Disappointingly for a comedy festival there seemed to be no ascribed central meeting point for after show fun (or if there was, no-one from the Festival had thought to tell us about it, or indeed make any kind of contact with us at all).
So instead we went and played pool in a pub near the theatre.
This is what itÂ’s like on tour.
We decided to have a night cap in the hotel bar, though somewhat reluctantly as the evening had been sad enough already, and from what we had already seen of the hotel clientele, it was unlikely to be the swingingest spot in Leicester (but then again, it is Leicester that IÂ’m talking about). We'd dropped the car back at the hotel after the gig and the only other people in the bar had been some businessmen and women having some kind of informal meeting.
But as we arrived back at 11ish there was a sense of excitement amongst the few people in there, and stretching out on one section of sofas were some rather cooler looking patrons. There was a very glamorous young woman, and a couple of extremely trendy black guys, who were all apparently being videoed by a slick looking older man. I felt I maybe recognised one of the younger men, guessing he was probably some kind of pop star, but I couldnÂ’t place him. Simon felt it was the girl who was the famous one, but I didnÂ’t recognise her, though she did look like any one of a hundred of those hopefuls from Fame Academy or whatever.
They were talking to, or rather being talked at, by a drunk, middle-aged man in a crumpled suit, who seemed to be pestering them. So much so, that within a couple of minutes of our arrival they all left.
From what I could hear from his conversation with the barmaid the drunk was very impressed with meeting these celebrities (whoever they were). He was asking her, what I considered rather intrusive questions about their movements, and how long they were staying and so on. He asked for another drink. I told Simon not to do anything to attract his attention to us. He was clearly slightly sad and lonely and I didnÂ’t want to give him an excuse to come and bore the arse off us too. Yet, I had a sense of affinity with him, all too aware that we all have the potential to be the lonely drunk at the hotel bar. Many times when IÂ’ve been away working, IÂ’ve sat quietly in such bars myself, feeling miserable and alone, but not having the balls to talk to anyone. Mind you, the main reason I wouldnÂ’t talk to anyone is because IÂ’ve seen too many drunks like this one, imposing themselves on strangers and spoiling their night.
A few moments later, the girl and the older guy with the video camera, crossed back through the bar on the way to bed. “I didn’t think she’s be with him, out of those three”, said Simon. I made the same presumption, thinking the video fella must be another kind of slightly sad middle-aged sleaze bag (the video camera didn’t help dispel that image). Of course there was also some element of jealousy however much I’d like to claim otherwise.
Yet the next morning I was made to realise the error of my presumption. The video guy and the girl were sitting at the next table to me at breakfast. Out of her smart clothes and make-up the girl looked much younger than she had last night and my judgement of the sleaziness of the man went up a few notches. Until the girl went to the buffet bar and said “Do you want some cereal, dad?”
So, it was me who was the middle-aged sleaze bag, not him. He was just a father, proudly recording the meeting of his daughter (whoever she was) with some other blokes (whoever they were).
For the second time in a week I had made a horrible snap judgement, which said more about me than about the person I was stupidly judging. You know that Jesus bloke was quite smart on this subject, wasnÂ’t he? He should get more credit than he does.
