Great show today, truly fucking great. Pretty damn busy, around the 20 mark again.
Everyone was hanging on to every word I was saying, it really was like I was Jesus (except I’ve never seen a picture in the Bible of him in PVC trousers) and also I was funnier, he didn’t put many gags in his set.
Slight problem though, the wonderful Siobhan who has walked into my life and has pretty much saved my Edinburgh, not least from the all encompassing having four people in blues but also by doing the ushering/Front of House stuff for me.
She has now seen the show five times, but still wants to watch. This is cool, every person in the audience is an audience member.
Today she is sat away from rest of crowd to my left.
She is a knitter.
As in she knits things.
The last couple of nights she has been knitting in the back row, this is fine I didn’t even notice. But tonight she is knitting and is in full eyeline of everyone in the audience. I glare, I comment (subtly) but she don’t stop with the knitting. To be honest I get a bit angry within. Everytime there that I have created a dramatic moment and leave a skillful Christlike pause all I can hear is a clackity clack clack.
When Jesus was on the mount (not the Mound in Edinburgh) giving his Sermon (not… forget it) were there people knitting? I think not.
If I am to keep up this Jesus-like status then I must employ some of his policies. Is isn’t written in the Bible but if you look hard enough you can probably make up something to fit.
Thou shalt not knit.
From now on there is a knitting ban at every Terry Saunders gig, if I catch you knitting I’ll release a plague of Locus’s.