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When I was away the Royal Mail attempted to deliver me a letter that had insufficient postage on it. It was 11p shy of the correct price and consequently I was to be charged £1.11 to receive this mystery package from an unknown person with little grasp of acceptable postage weights. Obviously no business could allow people to start paying whatever they like for a service, but even with that one pound fine for someone else’s stupidity that seems like something that is more hassle than it is worth. The fuss of returning the letter to the depot, putting it in the correct slot and then storing it until someone comes to pick it up and then employing someone to hand it to them. For the sake of 11p? Well it’s the principle of the matter I suppose.
Did I feel like making the 20 minute round trip (if I was running) to the collecting office to get this unknown item? It might be a bill or some piece of junk mail, but what if it was a precious diamond sent by an eccentric admirer or 1 million pounds in a bin liner. Then again I might have an enemy who realised that he could break me financially by sending me loads of letters with the incorrect postage and then suck up all the money I had in fines. I knew disappointment was almost certain, but I am not getting enough exercise so could do with the jog and the mystery was too compelling to not go and see. I considered taking my 111p in 111 one pence pieces, but ultimately this would be inconvenient for me and annoying for the man who had to give me the letter, who, let’s face it, had done nothing wrong here except accept a job with the most evil company in the world.
I got my run in, which was good and paid my money in the form of a pound coin, a ten pence coin and a 5p coin and was shortly given 4pence and a plain brown envelope back. It clearly had a few bits of paper inside it. Was it a mission I had been given by the secret services to see if I could cut the mustard as a spy. Well if it was then I certainly wouldn’t tell you and would have to make up some ridiculous story to cover my tracks.
It was definitely not a top secret mission. I promise. It turned out that it was my invitation card to Buckingham Palace from the other week. It hadn’t shown up in time and now I knew why. Because it had been held back due to having not enough postage and delivered a week or so late. So that was a waste of my time and one pound eleven of my hard earned money. The Queen owns the Royal Mail (she probably doesn’t any more, but I bet she gets free stamps and a cut of the profit for using her face) and yet she had failed to put the right postage on the letter. And then I saw the ruse. By putting the wrong (free) stamp on her letters of invitation she would force every single one of the forty guests that night to pay the Royal Mail a stipend of £1.11 and thus net herself a cool £44.40. It was the perfect crime. She knew none of us would be able to resist paying the fine and all that money goes to her. Admittedly she did have to give us all free dinner and drink to make this happen, but I bet she has some other scam where people give her that stuff for free in return for a royal crest or something. So she’s quids in. I have to admire her pluck. I bet she looks at her own face on the coins that she gets delivered at the end of the scam and winks and laughs. There is no such thing as free four course meal at Buckingham Palace.
On the plus side I get to keep the invitation cards that would no doubt have been handed in anyway. I reckon I can make £1.15 with those on ebay. So who's the sucker now.
Check out my other stuff for sale here.
Southend-on-Sea tonight which I’ve played a few times before to general lack of interest. I was at the Palace Theatre which is a big 600 seater, but luckily a lot of those seats are in the almost invisible upper circle and I had sold out most of the stalls and a bit of the middle level and was amazed to find about 250 people wanted to see me here. As I looked at the audience from the wings they didn’t look like my typical crowd and I wondered if it was the kind of place where the locals came to see everything and would thus be disappointed by my esoteric and childish stories. Then I suddenly feared that some of the more elderly people might have misunderstood the poster and thought that they were seeing the Michael Flatley Lord of the Dance (we did get at least one couple who came to see “This Morning With Richard Not Judy” expecting to see the real Richard and Judy - and they stayed through the entire first half, perhaps hoping that we were the foul-mouthed warm up for the real thing).
Tonight my prejudices proved unfounded. This was one of the best audiences I’ve had for the show and the more elderly people enjoyed it just as much as the (few) youngsters. And the staff at the theatre were welcoming and friendly and I had a hoot meeting the audience after the show. One of them told me that this was the 50th time she’d seen me live, having followed my career since the Lee and Herring days. Which is both a wonderful compliment and a terrible reminder of the passage of time. But I know there’s lots of people out there who have kept up that loyalty to my stuff since the beginning and I massively appreciate it. I told her she could have free tickets to the next show she wanted to come to and that offer stands for all of you. It’s like a very big Caffe Nero loyalty card. You will require the requisite 50 stamps to get to see the free show though.
So a show that started with me feeling tired and trepidatious left me invigorated and happy and the tour continues to improve and ticket sales seem to be improving. Some people (usually reviewers) don’t like the fact that I am happy and worry that I am losing my bite, but I think the happiness is leading to the best-performed show that I’ve ever done. And there’s still some bite in there anyway. It’s just a bit hidden away.
