And back to Cardiff, though this promised to be a much better gig than the one in someones house, I did a preivew in Cardiff last year and thoroughly enjoyed it, my visits to the city have not been so great since, so was expecting a lot from this gig, to redeem Cardiff, and indeed, the welsh.
Last years preview was in a lovely Edinburgh like room thing, this appeared to be in a Weatherspoons, or the welsh equivilant. And in thecorner of the room was plonked a microphone.
Some people were there for comedy, they seemed nice. The rest were there for cheap booze and low-atmos surroundings.
I went up, I had a bad feeling.
I started the show, they laughed a bit. I did the first bit of story, they were paying attention, but that slowly wandered away from me. Whether it was because it was the first time I’d odne the story without relying on bits of paper, or that my delicate narrative was too subtle fora chain bar, or possibly the catfights at the back of the bar and the cheapo Fosters.
I gave up on the Pulp Boy ness after a while and did some stand up, they perked up a bit, I wanted to shoot them all.
This would have been an even angrier entry, but after me (to an admittedly emptier and quieter bar) was the great Sean Collins who had them in the palm of his hand. So it was prob just me then.