After a tortuous Skype call with my mother, who couldn't quite get it working properly from her end (she wasn't broadcasting video) but - still - wouldn't - give - up, I would still pretty much have had time to get a bus all the way. But then it occurred to me that there'd be a lot of walking that way - and while my leg is much improved, it's still very sore. So, train to Waterloo and bus from there, as usual. And wouldn't you know it, I was dead lucky with train and bus - at Clapham Junction, I just arrived at the platform at the same time as a train to Waterloo (alighting at Waterloo, the first thing I heard was an announcement for a train to Guildford, yuck!), and as I rounded the corner to the bus stop, why, there was a bus, just waiting for me. Not only that, but as I was trotting towards it, someone dashed on ahead of me, so I didn't have to trot quite so fast..
Arrived at the club, and made for the stairs. Just as I turned to go down, I heard a familiar voice - looked up, and there was the Man with the Hat, on the street, unusually. I decided to go down and get my wrist stamped first - where they told me that there was another show on now, and I couldn't go in till it was finished. Shoo. So up I went again, where the Man with the Hat (who obviously heard this before I did) was huddled with a few other early-birds, waiting to be let in. Just as well the evening wasn't cold. And as we waited, more and more people accumulated..
When they finally let us in (and I zipped by, pre-stamped) I discovered a scrum at the bar. I mightn't have bothered, but after another day in Hell, I really needed a drink. And there I was, for a Very Long Time. The Man with the Hat, I think, gave up on me. For most of the time, there were only two guys serving behind the bar - slowly. Things did pick up a bit when a third appeared. And when I finally made it to the bar, and the guy serving me found lots of stuff to do rather than pour my drink.. the till wouldn't let him log in. And then, as far as I can tell, it took him forever to find change for me.
What the hey, the show still hadn't started (it did start very late). And the Man with the Hat - relieved, I daresay, to have found his lost sheep - kindly showed me to a seat over the side, with a decent view of the stage. Where I noticed they seemed to have a posher stool than on Wednesdays, when we usually show up:
A new MC - pretty much the same jokes. A good line-up started with the excellent John Hastings - I was trying to remember where I saw him last, and finally placed it as that Free Comedy in Hammersmith gig that I've cancelled so much lately. Must start going back there. His rapid-delivery set was followed by Luke Toulson, then the first break was followed by Junior Booker and some guy called Jake, whose surname I didn't quite catch. Good, clever set though, leading us into the second interval.
For all that I was desperate for that drink, I made it last. The fear of another scrum at the bar helped me with that. The final set had three comedians - Iain Stirling, Nathan Caton, and Jamali Maddix. All of whom were excellent. Jamali, mind you, had something of a confrontational attitude, which sparked off a few arguments with the crowd, including with a lawyer in the second row, who introduced herself as Irish and made a point of the fact that the Irish struggle lasted for 800 years. Ah God, she would be from Cork - the Rebel County. He asked her what kind of a lawyer she was - competition law. Heh.
A small, but select, group gathered outside again for the short trip down the road to the White Hart. Where the Man with the Hat bagged the sofas at the back while we got drinks, and I shepherded the others (apart from we two, they were new to the place) to these much-prized sofas. And we had a good old chat till chucking-out time. As I explained to one person, this was my escape from the awfulness of my days. So I didn't mind at all that it was way past my bedtime when we left (given that I'm in Guildford again today), or that I was so late in calling my mother (as I do when I get in) that she called me.. Oh, and I read a very interesting newspaper article on the way home, about how we don't have to worry about Trump, because all he wanted was to become President. He doesn't really want to do anything with the job..
Tired today, but it was worth it. Tonight, I'm with London Dramatic Arts for The Red Barn, at the National. Good - it'll be quick to get to, so I should make it as long as traffic isn't horrendous. And I see there's no interval - might get to bed at a reasonable hour!
Tomorrow, the Man with the Hat is taking both London for Less Than a Tenner and Let's Do London - for less! to a Wayne McGregor mixed ballet programme at the Royal Opera House. This, I'm guessing, is why we went to Top Secret on Monday instead of the more customary Wednesday. The cheaper seats are with London for Less Than a Tenner, and are in the Slips - where I'm going to be; the others are in the Amphitheatre.
On Thursday, I'm with Kensington Classical Music for a performance of The Snowman, and a Christmas concert, at St. James' Church Piccadilly. The organiser is very kindly giving me a free ticket, on account of concerts I've paid for before and missed. And it has nothing to do with the fact that it's also my birthday! :-) Anyway, good job I'm working from home that day - it's the earliest event start of the week.
Friday, I'm back to Ireland for the weekend, where - unusually, at the moment - we don't have anything scheduled. On Monday, I'm off with London Dramatic Arts to Trafalgar Studios, to see the Pulitzer-prize-winning Buried Child, with Ed Harris. Pity it clashes with the Crick Crack Club that night - I'd already booked this, but would rather have gone with them..
Next Tuesday, London Dramatic Arts are off to Hampstead Theatre to see The Intelligent Homosexual's Guide to Capitalism and Socialism with a Key to the Scriptures, with Tamsin Grieg, which was rescheduled. And so am I - independently, just as I was supposed to for the original date. This is the theatre I had to sneak out the back of, last time - which makes it interesting. Assuming I get there in time - it's on at 7, and I bloody well have to be in Guildford again.
Wednesday of next week, I'm signed up with the London European Club for a talk at the Frontline Club about London's Dirty Money. Unless, you know, I decide to go to a film instead.
And Thursday of next week, I'm back with Crick Crack, in the Arthouse Crouch End (what a good job it's a Work from Home day) for one I missed before - Little Red Riding Hood & Other Lost Girls, as told by Nell Phoenix. And yes, I do have the confirmation email for this one, unlike the one I thought I'd booked for last Sunday!
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