Comedy. Hidden away so no one would hear it. About as funny as November itself. A chance for wise guys to find out if they were comedians or not. A chance to ‘try out new material’. A chance for me and Dee to see if we could be the thing we wanted to be.
The two of us made up a ¼ of the entire audience. It was so empty, that they considered calling it off. Round the corner in the West End, Bill Bailey was entertaining a sold out gig. We were benefiting from intimacy though, right? The first reluctant act finally got things kicked. We had been waiting half an hour late. They were a singing duo. The funny one came onto the other girl in the audience. He actually rubbed up against her. He even took her shoe off, you had to be there. Or maybe you didn’t really need to be there. More bizarre comics followed, one after the other. The MC was on first name terms with the entire audience. Special treatment Bill Bailey could never provide.
Dee is a journalist from Co. Wicklow in Ireland. She recently moved here; pursuing a dream of working in international news. We met through twitter; or rather were introduced by a mutual tweep, @stephenoleary. Thanks Steve!
The Backstage Comedy Club performers joined our table after they came off stage; in order to fill the room. This was brilliant self-deprecating humour or just very sad? I still can’t work out whether the whole performance was really good, or really bad!? I’ll spare you details or each one. But Dee and I were laughing, laughing hard.
It was in Café Koha. We were sat at a candle-lit table in the corner. The perfect setting you might think, to continue our burrito date. It didn’t begin romantically. We met by Charing Cross Tube station. I again acted as a burrito-bike courier. With the rain dripping down; we were restricted to eating the burritos on a bench inside the station.
Back in Cafe Koha the comedy had come to an end. The MC announced there would be a quiz. The quiz was one question; something like ‘who would you throw into a bonfire, and why?’ We all wrote an answer anonymously. Dee and I answered Jordan and Cheryl Cole respectively. Our answers lacked humour, we didn’t win. One of the nights comedians won! The MC, who by now knew that Dee and I were on a date, gave us the prize. This is Dee with the prize. She asked me not to publish this photo, but I couldn’t resist.
In the end we were the last to leave. Our true Irish banter came out after a few drinks and a few jokes; as I said goodnight to Dee at the tube, I thought to myself that the random mix of ingredients left a good taste and the end of the evening.