“I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened.” Mark Twain
When I was 17, I had an experience which hung over me for years to come. I had been part of a group of people in GCSEs who spent every weekend together: having parties, drinking in parks, incestually ‘getting off’ with each other. It heralded social acceptance. I had ‘a life’ and I was finally immune to the suggestion that I should ‘get a life’. It was great. It was like ‘Friends’ but with 12 packs of Stella Artois and fingering under railway bridges. I was ‘the funny one’ and it was clear that this new Eden would last forever. This was absolutely indisputable.
It didn’t last forever. Some of the group formed a band with other people, new people came into our tight circle forming splintering factions. It was what happened to the Beatles and quite possibly Roll Deep. (It’s very important for my readership that I include modern references). Another ‘funny one’ called Dominic Walliman joined the group. A competitor. The guy told jokes, he made amusing observations, he believed he had a future in comedy. In short, he was a total shit.
Meanwhile two of the members (Nicky White and Ben Newman) were finding new identities in a band. I wasn’t in the band and thus I felt the band to be a threat to our group. I took the only responsible measure to bring us together and save our group: I let it be known that the band was rubbish and that Ben Newman was shit on bass.
In the meantime, I fancied a girl called Georgina Owen. She was a group member. On one occasion, during science, she pressed her breasts into my back. It was love. I once told her that I fancied someone but couldn’t tell her who it was. I thought I was being elusive and charming. I wasn’t. I must have looked like a love-sick stuffed animal. For some reason I confided in Dominic that I fancied Georgina Owen. I think I was trying to make a grand, benevolent gesture to him: “Here, I was saying. Welcome to the masonic lodge”. However, the information probably wasn’t all that precious. In fairness, it’s rather like confiding in someone that Hitler was a bit naughty. It’s generally known.
Nicky White threw a party. They were going to watch all of Starwars back-to-back. It was the social event of the season. I mentioned it to Nicky few times as a talking point, obviously to protest that I hadn’t been invited. He looked uncomfortable and then said, as if wearily resigned to something, “Do you want to come?” My plan to unite our disparate factions had begun.
When I arrived at the party, I was sure to slag off Ben’s bass playing to Delny Fitzryk (a neutral figure in all this) before sitting uncomfortably close to Georgina Owen and firing off lots of jokes at her. The charm offensive had begun. Some time later, Dominic Walliman sat next to Georgina and put his arm round her. She didn’t seem to mind. They kept looking over at me. I was drunk and absolutely gutted. I went up to the bathroom and had a huge swear. Nicky White knocked on the door and told me to keep it down because I was keeping his family awake. I told him how angry I was with Dominic. Nicky told me that the whole thing was staged to make me jealous, was known about by everybody, and was to get back at me for calling Ben Newman a crap bassist.
I was devastated. I felt utterly betrayed and rejected. I left the house and didn’t think I could realistically return to the school. Ben and Nicky were surprised at how badly I took it and had no idea it would have such an effect on me. Despite apologies and faint attempts at reconciliation, that was pretty much that as far as the group went. I no longer had plans on Friday or Saturday nights, so I spent the time making comedy films with my friend, Mark Gensler. Comedy became my new cathartic refuge. People were far too dangerous.
It took me years to get over, but I never totally got over it. Every time I found a new group of friends I knew the countdown to destruction had begun. The sense that things would inevitably fall apart, that people would quickly grow sick of me.
Of course the wicked perpetrators of my crisis in confidence got their come-uppance. Georgina is a successful criminal pathologist, Ben is an award winning artist and film director, Nicky runs a successful business and Dominic has a degree in nuclear physics. It just goes to show. Betrayers never prosper, and any concept of ‘success’ they have in their lives is mere fallacy and self-delusion. Meanwhile I’m a gnat’s wing away from comedy greatness. I will be doing my show, ‘You Have Nothing to Fear’ in Edinburgh. It’s free to get in.
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