So back where I belong. In a tiny 100 seat venue underneath a cinema. And given my lack of sleep doing three hours of comedy over two performances might have been a tough ask.
But not compared to doing a real job.
Although if I did a real job I might get Sunday off.
I enjoyed both shows, though I did start to flag a bit towards the end of the second one and my stomach muscles were aching with the exertion. Stand up comedy is the hardest job in the world.
I love the gig at the City Screen and was very well looked after. I got a fabulous pizza for dinner, which if I was still doing sandwich ratings would have been second only to the legendary lamb at the Glasgow Tron
I was pretty much wiped out after it was all over though and headed back to the hotel (which was a lot nicer than last night's). My girlfriend and I were planning to head down to the bar, until she noticed that whilst we'd been out a bottle of Cava had been placed in an ice bucket on our bedside table. We were a bit bamboozled by this. We hadn't ordered the sparking wine and no one apart from the promoter knew where we were staying. I texted him to see if some thanks were due, but he said it was nothing to do with him.
The ice in the ice bucket was pretty much melted which suggested it had been there for a while. Had someone else ordered this drink for another room and it had been wrongly delivered? Or were the staff at the hotel all secret Nazis and they'd misinterpreted my moustache? And if so why had they gone for Cava when fine champagne might have been more appropriate?
We thought about ringing down to reception to see if this was indeed an error, but reasoned that if that turned out to be the case someone might come up and take it away from us. But then again what if it was some kind of trick by the hotel. At the Hilton there had been a 75cl bottle of warm still mineral water on the desk, although that was labeled with a sign saying it would cost you Â£2.95 to buy it. Which was very reasonable. I imagine if you had wanted it chilled it would have been a fiver.
But had our current hotel put a bottle of wine in our room, without any price label to trick us into drinking it and then charging us through the nose the next day?
It was a conundrum. But I reasoned that we hadn't signed for the wine and if there were any repercussions in the morning then I could probably deny all knowledge of the drink's existence. And it'd be nice to toast this busy and successful weekend with some cheap fizz! And to be able to relax in our room rather than head to the bar and be judged by the other hotel patrons for my unusual face fuzz.
Only the morning would tell if we would drink for free or be charged for this luxury. But as I lay back in my bath with fizz in my face fuzz (I said fizz) I felt just a little bit show biz. Russell Brand might get Dom Perignon and a hot tub, but I was happy with my version.
Especially as it was possibly free.
Or included in some room deal that I hadn't noticed.
Or possibly had been placed there by an insane stalker and was full of sedatives and they were waiting outside to come in and rape me, kill me and then rape me some more.