I mentioned a couple of posts ago that our flyering efforts had caught the attention of a London based amateur comedian (aren't we all) who wanted a gig. Well, again yesterday we were subjected to a similar young hopeful. This guy was quicker to cotton on to the fact that we weren't inviting him onto the bill. He did ask how to find open spots while in the area, and I gave him the standard advice of ringing around the advertisers in Time Out. Noticing that he had a north east accent, I asked him his name. He gave me his card. I can hear, so a name spoken alone would have sufficed. He turned out to have played a gig I read about on a couple of the blogs that I read. It was a nice way to feel a link with a stranger.
As he was leaving, he did something butt clenchingly awful. He tried to be funny. Speaking in low tones he started talking bollocks about passers by. In much the way that a slight of hand artist has to work hard to fool another, so too does a comedian have to work hard to suprise another. I was slightly shocked. I felt an urge to deliver some crushing put downs or explain that it was embarrassing. However I didn't want to be horrible, and he was being slightly amusing. Had I been a punter and had he had the mystique of the performer, maybe it would have been funnier.
The exit door appeared when he pointed to a black fellow and said that he was a dealer. . . Bit racist. . . Thing is, as I pointed out, he was. He'd been the guy dealing earlier. Job done conversation stopped. No offence needed to be taken.
I wonder what other shows pick up passers by hoping to join the cast. You reckon that Les Miserables has a queue of people singing at the stage door?
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