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Hex broken

This week, I broke a long-term comedy hex.

There is a regular new-act night where a winner is always crowned at the end of the night, and I think it is the competitive comedy element that has always put me off.

At the end of a set, if the enough of the audience shout ‘buy him/her a drink’ then that act gets bought, um, a drink. They then go through to the final at the end of the night to determine the winner through a clap-off, who receives a trophy.

I have done this night several times and had a couple of belters, but many poor showings, and have never made it through to the final.

My good friend, comedy life partner and sometime financial dependent Paul Langton is hosting one of these nights now. I am pleased for him, because I think the regular MCing experience will allow him to get even better as I comic. I am also pleased for him because he gets paid for it, so he is less likely to ask me for money.

I was trying out some older stuff I have reworked, and it went down really well. At the end of my set, there was a resounding chorus for a drink to be bought for me.

However, at the end of the night when Langton called out my name, I chose not to take to the stage for the clap-off, perhaps subconsciously because I didn’t think I’d win, but because these sorts of nights are to give new acts confidence. I have been going regularly for nearly three years, with two and a half Edinburghs under my belt and from my wallet. I would rather the winner of such nights is someone who hasn’t been going very long and need a boost.

Besides, had I won, due to my long-term association, it would have smelt worse than a toilet after a Langton post-Guinness binge.

Nevertheless, it was a good feeling to kick the hex in the crotch.

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