Sunday, 21 June 2009

Nice To Be Trying.

Being nice all the time is going quite well and quite badly. It's going quite badly because, due to my nature, I keep forgetting to be nice. It's not like I go around punching people but I must tut more per day than most people do in a lifetime. In a way, it's everyone's fault except mine.

Friday had a couple of good I'm-nice-now moments. I was on the train on my way to Cardiff and I decided that if there was any wankers on the train then I would be overly-nice to them so that they would freak out and fuck off. There wasn't which just proves that train-wankers are train-cunts. AND THAT'S SCIENCE. I was trying to look over some King of Everything stuff but my mind kept wandering to what my next nice encounter might be. Then the Ticket Inspector arrived. Hallelujah. It had been hours since I was last nice (I said "And a very good day to you, too, Sir" to a shop keeper who handed me my change and said nothing) so I was really looking forward to making this man's day for him. I had my ticket ready and when he saw that I was going to Cardiff he explained that there were delays at Newport.

"Oh, really?", I said. "That must be terrible".

"It might be fine by the time we get there", he replied.

"But what time will you get home for your dinner?"

"Erm...Should be the normal time".

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Don't think so. (TO MAN NEXT TO ME) Tickets, please".

And off he went, suspiciously quicker than he arrived. I brought my swimming trunks (DO NOT THINK OF ME WEARING SWIMMING TRUNKS) with me on the off chance that the hotel would have a pool. It was a Holiday Inn and they usually do. I started my smile about 40 yards away from the hotel to make sure that I had it right by the time I got to reception. It pretty much made the receptionist jump. After checking in I asked her if there was a pool.

"No, Sir. I'm sorry".

"That's fine", I said. "I don't like swimming. Do you?"

She didn't answer in English but rather in a series of coughs and clicks. I like her.

By yesterday I had pretty much given up on being nice all the time but only because I was around lots of people who were genuinely nice and didn't have to grotesquely fake it like I do. I was "working" (I love it when comedians say that) at the fantastic Glee club and Lee and Dale who work there are two of the nicest, friendliest people you could ever wish to meet. Lee talked about cricket for about half an hour and was never once boring about it. I even asked him questions about cricket. THAT is how nice he is. The line up was excellent. It was great fun to listen to the confused stories of Joe Wilkinson, the energetic blarney of Ian Coppinger, the ballsy confidence of Junior Simpson and the topical and topicalish material of Alistair Barrie (he's like watching Have I Got News For You. On Dave). All very, very funny and fun to be with. Pity the fire alarm went off during Junior's set but, hey, who wouldn't want to stand out in the freezing cold watching security experts looking baffled at an alarm system while your audience continue to come up to you to tell you that you're "not as funny as (PUT COMEDIAN'S NAME HERE)". It's what I dreamt of when I started. Not that I'm complaining. It was a great weekend.

I'll be back to being full-time terrifyingly nice as of tomorrow. I have lots of people to deal with for Edinburgh that I can't wait to upset with my faultless manners. How are you getting on with yours?

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