Death in Fleet

I had a gig in Fleet last night, it was an unqualified disaster.

I got the gig through a well known agency and after having turned them down for gigs in Derby and Exeter on several occasions, I thought it was time to do something before they stopped phoning altogether. As luck would have it, one of the other comics had a car too, so I wasn't expected to drive around and pick everyone up. So far, so good.

I've been to watch a couple of their gigs before in different places and they always seem to be good quality nights. The guy who was organising it was nice and friendly enough and the bar soon filled up. What I couldn't understand was that it was a free entry gig, and I know the other 3 comics were being paid, with me being thrown in as a 'freebie'. So he must have been paying for it out of his own pocket. The headline act was a really well known and well respected comic, I was actually looking forward to hanging around to watch his set.

So on went the compere, to 15 mins of deathly silence and intense unfriendliness. Not good, I thought, maybe they just don't like him (although his stuff was good). First act, Jo Romero. A really funny woman with some brilliant and at times quite dark material. She done ok, but despite myself and the other two comedians at the back pissing ourselves, it was obvious that the crowd weren't interested. As Jo came off, the headliner (who I shall not name) stood up and said "Well you know what, I don't want to do this, so I'm off home, sorry....."

I couldn't fucking believe it!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was someone I thought could take the roof off the place, someone who I kind of aspired too and looked up to, and here he was turning his back and walking out, presumably cause the crowd were shit. So that left the bill standing as follows..... ME! What????? I don't have the experience to headline a gig, especially one where the people just want to sit and stare silently.

The organiser came over, patted me on the back and said "No pressure then!". Thanks a fucking bunch. thanks a fucking bunch to the headliner too, what kind of message does it give to someone with not even a years experience when such an established performer walks off and leaves you in the shit? The compere asked me how much I could do, it told him about 15 mins of material and then I'll just fuck about with the crowd a bit...... bring it on.

Well the first few minutes were ok. A mixture of some established jokes and fresh topical stuff. I started to try and engage the crowd but they just wouldn't have it. I tried to shock them with some really sick stuff, some squaddies at the back of the room briefly looked away from their beers and dolly bird sluts to laugh, then promptly turned back. The rest of the crowd took it to heart, I think it offended their middle england sensibilities, good, fuck 'em. I then tried some new material, stuff that I've already road tested at good gigs in London....... Nothing. After about 17 mins I decided to get off stage while I still had some sort of dignity left.

What a crock of shit. I feel sorry for the poor compere, he was being paid to hold the whole lot together and the headliner walked out on him, he was reduced to a joke telling competition, poor bloke.

To be honest, I drove the 30 miles home last night with the radio off, contemplating why I do this crap. Why I spend my own money on petrol or travelcards getting to gigs, just to try and make strangers laugh. To be faced with a man in the front row (a builder named Darren by the way) who thinks I'm shit, but has never told a joke or been on stage in his life. It's hard not to take it personally when it goes that badly, it's difficult not to be harsh on myself. It dents your confidence because if they're not laughing, they don't find you funny and that is, after all, why you are there. It feels very personal indeed.

Last night I could have chucked it in for good.

But I won't, I'll just keep plodding along, cause I know when you have a really good gig, it leaves you feeling unstoppable.

On with the show....