I had an unexpected gig on Friday night. I was just finishing some work, or trying to start some, and received an email from a promoter just before 6pm to say they were short on acts at a gig about a gig 20 minutes drive from me.
It was a charity night, so no money, but I’d put myself forward for it at the end of July as it was so close to home, with the thinking that it wouldn’t cost me a massive amount of petrol. On, and that I’d be helping a good cause too. I didn’t hear anything back initially, which isn’t surprising in the world of comedy gig emails. I didn’t think too much more of it until the email popped up on my phone.
When I’m doing a comedy gig, my mental preparation often begins as soon as I get up on the day of it. It’s not a full-blown scenario played out, but it’s where my attention goes and I start to think about what I’m going to say and how I’m going to get there.
However, when I received this email on Friday evening, my mental preparation was instead focused on my trip to the supermarket to do the weekly food shop. Playing out the scenario in my head about which aisles I need to get to, and if I feel that Mini Cheddars are a necessary purchase in a cost-of-living crisis. For the record, they are.
Then I thought that it was possible to do both, as I would have to pass the supermarket to get to the gig. So, depending on what time they needed me, I could do my shopping before the gig, and arrive at the gig with a carload of food. The biggest risk here was frozen food, but it wasn’t that warm.
Or, I could the shop after the gig, with the biggest risks here being that there may not be many bananas left and the store closes at 10pm. After exchanging a few emails with the promoter and finding out the time I could be away, I picked the latter option.
The gig was in a converted barn. And there were about 40 people in. I arrived during the break after the first section, and within about 15 minutes of arriving, I was on stage. They were a good crowd and my set went down pretty well, aside from an adlibbed opener about having to get to the supermarket before it shut and I’d regret doing the gig if it meant I couldn’t get any banana. This wasn’t actually a joke, which may be why it didn’t get a laugh. Thankfully, the rest of the set did. I stuck with a mostly tried and tested set, as I didn’t have time to think about including anything new – or even the largely unproven Ross Kemp’s A-Z of Hell Material. But for my first gig post-Covid, I was pleased with how it went on the whole. A line as part of a bigger bit that I’d dropped and then forgotten about somehow slipped into the set and got a laugh. I may keep now keep doing that bit.
Another thing about performing a comedy gig in the evening is that I often feel hungry afterwards. It might be something to do with the adrenaline and the relief at the heightened state being over, I don’t know. I need to find a scientific explanation for this. And there was a hot dog stall right outside the front of the venue, with free hot dogs for performers. Upon receiving the hot dog and chips, I realised just how massive it was. The supermarket would have to wait until I’d finished it.
Feeling a little heavier, I eventually arrived at the supermarket at 9pm – giving me one hour to do the shopping. And awaiting me was a fully stocked array of bananas. I completed the shop 50 minutes later and my plan had succeeded, which isn’t always the case.