Hello blog readers, my name is Terry Saunders and I am known (for better or worse) for a style of gentle comedy, telling wee tales and being kind of laid back.

As a comic on the circuit I more often than not find myself at gigs that require more of a, manly tone, shall we say?

Another aspect of gigging round the country is that you never quite know what to expect.

I certainly didn’t expect 24 hours ago to be able to type with complete honesty that I spent the evening in a pole dancing club.

But last nights gig was in such a place in Worthing, it said pole dancing bar on the outside, so I shouldn’t have been all that suprised to find a giant whacking pole on the inside.

It was glitzy, oh my was it tacky-glitzy. Several glitterballs all of the rainbow colours of lights and a lot of velvetty surfaces.

The dressing room however was either bleak/a perverts dream depending on your viewpoint. A list of girls names and contact details (all called Candy), the floor was sticky, a pile of shoes with silly heels and so much fake-tan and makeup in the air that if you breathed in too heavily the inside of your lungs got oranger.

After being told to get there for 7:45, and a stressful journey on the way where I missed a train to get a lift and set of a chain reaction to make lots of people late for their various things, it was a little annoying that the gig started at more like 9pm… this, however, is one of the bugbears of a comics life.

I didn’t know how to play this gig, The stage (luckily) wasn’t on the raised platform with a pole in it, but this platform did exist, right in the middle of the room. Creating a big audience void, so everyone basically sat around the back of the room.

Anyone versed in comedy setup will know that this doesn’t lead to the most pleasurable of gigs.

annoyingly, I might be known as the type of person who “wears a cardigan”, whereas often I don’t – last night I was. I think i’m one of the first people to perform in such a club wearing one.

I had a line to open on, if anything I put all my eggs in one basket, if this line got a laugh then the gig wasn’t going to be a total car-wreck.

I strolled on, said hello, I’m Terry, this is the comedy. When a man in the really rather sparsely filled front row said “Well do some comedy then”. I got heckled a full 4 seconds into the gig, I don’t mind being heckled and having my comedy skills questioned if I’ve done some funny to a not-funny reaction, but I was only saying hello.

I used the line… “I’m the compere, so first rule, ‘no touching’.”

It didn’t quite get the being carried out on people’s shoulders hailed as the new king of Worthing reaction I was hoping for, in as much as it got nothing.

A bit of prodding showed that half the people at the gig worked there and the other half seemed to be underage and scared of bringing attention to themselves.

the gig, all in all, didn’t go as bad as I’d feared. But, as one of the other acts, Debra-Jane Appleby said to me after, that’s a bit like saying “at least it wasn’t both legs”