We went to see "The Producers" tonight having managed to secure a couple of returns this afternoon. When I first did stand-up Lee Evans was just starting out too. I remember seeing him do a great act and yet still die in front of a load of idiots at "The Comedy Store" one night when we were on the same bill. He was shaken afterwards but I told him he was brilliant. I like to think that it was thanks to me and that encouragement that he went on to become the Perrier Award winning comedian and film and theatre star that he is today. I am sure he would say the same thing if you asked him. And yet I have never requested a penny in return. Not directly.
The show was good, not as fantastic as I had anticipated, but still very enjoyable and it was great to see one of my contemporaries doing so well. So many of them seem to be. It couldn't have happened to a nicer bloke: Lee Evans is genuinely one of the sweetest people you could ever meet.
But of course there was a jealous or paranoid part of me that ended up comparing my own career with his. I died on my arse at the Comedy Store that night too, and yet I am not now part of a sell-out show in the West End. In fact I am still dying on my arse in comedy clubs around London. How could the idiots in that Comedy Store audience have got it so wrong with Lee and yet so right with me? I worried and wondered if I had missed the boat.
But not too much. I know that my fate is in my own hands and I that I am ready to really get my teeth into something next year. There is still plenty of time to achieve, provided my scheming relatives don't get to me first.
And if it turns out that I have missed the boat then I've enjoyed the trip to the jetty.
But, as you may have gathered by now, it's something that worries me a bit.
As we were walking back over Waterloo Bridge a group of trendy looking young people were coming in the other direction. We were deep in conversation, but I still noticed that one of the gang had clocked me and once they were a few yards past us I heard one of the lads say, "I don't believe it, that is the funniest bloke who has ever lived!"
Which made me feel a bit better about myself.
I was too modest to acknowledge this compliment or to tell Diane to shut up talking whilst I basked in the adoration of strangers. Maybe things weren't going so badly after all then.
But the lift didn't last too long as the youth followed up his remark with "Yes, it's Stewart Lee."
I laughed to myself at my own hubris. And Diane laughed too, as she'd clearly actually heard the whole thing too. I would not have taken the initial hyperbole too seriously in any case, but it was amusing to have the bubble pricked so perfectly straight away.
Alas the young man was not prepared to leave it at that. We'd got some way further over the bridge when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the excited fellow. "Could you settle an argument between me and my friends?" he asked. I said nothing, I knew what was coming and merely nodded. "You are Stewart Lee, aren't you?"
"No, I'm afraid not," I replied with an attempted smile that may have been more of a grimace.
His face fell a bit, but he wasn't going to be contradicted, "Oh you so are," he told me, convinced I was pulling his leg.
"Really, I promise you I'm not," I replied a little impatiently, before carrying on with my walk.
I felt a bit unsporting and snotty and clearly I was being so, though with a little provocation.
But clearly there was no reason to get upset. The bloke obviously enjoyed my work on some level. Undoubtedly he didn't actually believe that either me or Stewart was the funniest bloke in the world. If he genuinely thought I was then he'd probably know my name and if he thought Stew was then he'd probably recognise him. Most likely he was someone who had liked our TV work, had been surprised to see me walking by him, got a bit excited, been a bit hyperbolic and then made a tiny though significant error with our names. It happens all the time. By not saying, "Close, but no cigar" and laughing it off I was punishing him for the fairly common error of not knowing which one of us was which. To be honest, it's very impressive to get that close. Most people who recognise me think that I'm a mate of their brother's or something. Or at best the fat priest off of Father Ted or Dom Joly.
It would probably have been more embarrassing for him if I'd pointed out the mistake, rather than just pretending not to know what he was going on about anyway. But I have some pride, only a little bit mind, but what little I had was slightly dented. Yet could still appreciate the humour of the situation.
Like banging your elbow it was one of those things that both makes you wince and laugh at the same time.
On the plus side the incident also means that Stewart Lee isn't so successful that he is instantly recognisible to a group of young people.... though they do at least know his name. And would be impressed if someone might possibly be him and risk betting some money on the question.
Hmmmmmm.
