31/07/07
Comics and Connies -
Categories: The phrase ‘false economy’ is one I all too often begin to use when it’s too late. A prime example is saving £9 on a return flight to Edinburgh by coming up two days early, then spending £120 in the space of those two days. I don’t think getting first pick of the rooms in my flat is quite worth £111 pounds and only seeing my girlfriend for 12 hours in between her getting back from a trip to Europe and my leaving for Edinburgh. Though I did manage to arrange the best surprise present for her. She’d always wanted a human skeleton, yes, a human skeleton. I read ‘The Curious Incident of the Dog…’ last night for the first time. She bought it for me and I can see why; my girlfriend is very similar to Christopher. She’s not got Asbergers, but has all the charming qualities of Christopher (Love of Maths, order, space, logic) without the downsides (screaming when touched, no sense of humour, bedwetting). So a skeleton was not an unusual dream for her. I bought one, after three months of scouring Ebay for one that wasn’t hundreds of pounds. While she was away I got the keys to her flat, erected the skeleton in her bedroom, and left a letter written by the skeleton in his hand, asking for a place to stay and saying a handsome man had told him she might need company during August. Genius. Though my first idea was better (placing the skeleton in her bed in my clothes with a note saying 'I came to check your flat wasn't flooded, i locked myself in, called for help but no-one came, if i die before you get back i love you. john'. That would have been the prank of the century if it'd worked.
Anyway, It was awesome to finally see some comedians arrive in Edinburgh yesterday. I went for a few drinks with a very tanned Dan Atkinson and erstwhile flatmate Jon Richardson. Both in fine form but stressed about their debut shows which will both, no doubt, be excellent. The difference between my carefree excitement and their fear, self doubt and secret high hopes was tangible, but I ‘spose that’s all part of doing your first hour. Jon’s living a way out on his own and Dan on Broughton Street, he claims it’s the “bohemian” area but having been there for burgers I discovered this estate agents code for “gay district”. Great place, and excellent Enchiladas in a place called ‘Blue Moon’.
Most importantly I bought a new pair of Converse shoes (connies). They’re black but with black labels and I replaced the white laces with black ones. The one downside of new connies is that they’re so clean when you first get them that you look like a total jerk-face for five days so I had to scuff them up a bit.
When I got home I realised the locked door incident (see previous blog) had made me more paranoid than I thought. I slept with a massive carving knife in my bed, which, if honest, is a stupid idea. If I was a bad-ass hitman it’d be fine, but chances are if I was woken by an intruder I’d scream like a girl and then stab myself in the arm, which if anything would make his job easier. I also erected a rudimentary alarm system by placing my swivelling chair against the door with one of my new connies balanced between the two. Anyone attempting to break in would now have the threefold problem of dealing with a man screaming because of a sudden noise, then screaming because of an intruder and then stabbing himself in the arm, I hoped he might make his escape during the confusion.
Today I’m going to begin searching for gigs in Edinburgh other than the Zone, which I don’t enjoy doing. I’d rather people saw me and chat to them afterwards as opposed to finding a way of saying “you don’t know me but I’m good and not a dick” in a text message. Despair.
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