Friday, 29 May 2009

Don't Talk To Me About People Who Are Nice.

Meeting people is not something that I would ever recommend. Often people are nice and that leads to being pleasant, which is the last thing that you could ever want to be. Yesterday I met two very nice people. It could have all gone very, very wrong at any minute.

The thing about nice people is that they take an interest in you and when people take an interest in me I normally find that that's the end of our relationship. I was with Patti yesterday, taking in the sights and sounds and smells and tastes and touches of London, and we were due to meet our friend Rosie who only appears every 15 years or so in our lives. Bizarrely, considering they hadn't seen each other in so long, the fucking idiots decided that they would go to watch a recording of QI at London Studios. They would meet 10 minutes before hand than go in and sit quietly for three long hours while QI made sure that it had 24 minutes of usable stuff for one episode. That's not much of a 15 year catch-up, is it? I spent most of the day telling Patti that this was a really stupid idea and that she would be stuck in there too long and it would be boring and she'd be throwing a night away in London to see something that won't be as good as the finished TV show. Plus Alan Davies is a cunt.

But Patti is loyal to Rosie. She didn't want to let Rosie down. This meant that I would not be going out drinking with her or at all. I am not giving a night of my entire life over to sobriety. That would be a waste. So I went on and on and on about how she would have a much better time going from bar to bar with me. Patti felt terrible (good). I'd put her off going. I got my way. Even better, Rosie queued up to go in and was turned away because it was full. Hooray for me. I got to spend the night drinking with my friends. Again. But this time, one of my friends brought two of their friends and they were, God help me, really nice.

There I was, trapped with two of the loveliest people you could ever meet, when one of them asked "So, what do you do for a living?" It is times like this that I wish I was a hired killer or a traffic warden or a professional child abductor, anything less embarrassing that a comedian. Because when you say "comedian" to people who have never heard of you all they hear is "comedian I've never heard of". So last night while I was explaining that I've never been on Live At The Apollo, Mock The Week, Have I Got News For You, Never Mind The Buzzcocks, Dad's Army, Homes Under The Hammer, The Dog Whisperer or any other TV show they mentioned they just looked at me as if I was a liar. How can you be a comedian if you haven't been on TV? (Apparently Street Cred Sudoko doesn't count) I don't really know how to answer that question so that people who don't work in comedy will understand. Fuck Off just isn't a good enough answer although it is brief.

So, I sat there squirming and being reminded that I'm the least famous comedian in the world and I could accept that, although it was tough. I explained that I made a good living and I was "happy", hoping that would be a good enough answer for anyone. Then they got up to leave and I soon realised that all my talk had fallen on deaf ears. "Best of luck with the comedy thing" said the "nice" lady as she left. Fucking patronising bitch.

Well, fucking "best of luck" seeing comedy, fuckface! She couldn't even get in to a free fucking show. HA! I win. I'm drinking, I'm with my REAL friends and I don't have to answer any questions about my least favourite subject: Me. I win. I win. I WIN!!!

After a few drinks we leave the bar and bump into Rob Rouse who was doing warm-up for QI. One of the guests was David Tennant.


No comments: