My Edinburgh Ballache Part 2: The Big Whinge.

Today I woke up hungover and demoralised and gave myself an impromptu day off to really get to grips with how shitty I felt. Yesterday’s show was yet more hard work. It’s all very well me concentrating on the show and not worrying about people’s reaction, but when the people are straight in front of you, that’s something else. One man on the second row was actually stifling laughter. He was too uncomfortable about laughing in a quiet room. That is the true Borg mentality of an audience. There is probably a psychological study about this. Audiences have no idea how much they can alter a performance. People seem to have an idea that an audience will laugh when something is funny. That isn’t the case. They will laugh when the collective mood allows them. The audience do not play a passive role in a good performance. They are its fuel. They sit there in silence wondering why they are sitting there in silence. Okay, it wasn’t silence. But it was underwhelming. And it made my material feel underwhelming. And it isn’t. With the right crowd it’s funny stuff. I felt the energy draining from me. Someone from the Theatre Royal in Nottingham asked me to email him after Edinburgh has finished to talk about the show. I don’t know what will come of it. What was worse is that firstly, someone was taking pics of me on a big SLR, which suggests press. On the strength of that show, I’d be lucky to get 2 stars. Again. Unless the reviewer can see passed the audience. They rarely can. Even worse is that two hungover girls came to the show. These girls saw my show last year and have stayed in touch since. Last year’s show was about insecurity, and they laughed like drains. (Strange expression. Don’t drains just drain?) This year, they sat at the back and mostly looked bored and hungover.

After the show I changed my pound coins from the pint glass for notes and looked around for the girls. They had gone. I hate feeling shit after a gig. It pervades everything I do. I imagined they had hated the show and fled to the hills, then I found them outside. Festival paranoia. I may not come to the Edinburgh Festival next year unless I have something to gain. So far, it feels like I have gained nothing at all. Sometimes the show feels like it's better but then I have a bad day and it knocks me over. Especially with the reinforcement of bad reviews. In London during August, there are more gigs available and mini-fringes. I may do one of these instead. I can spend money and feel tired and ignored and then go home on the tube.

On the plus side, I had Ron Swanson's favourite whiskey. That was nice.

*Note from August 2014: I edited this blog a lot. I talked about going out with these girls and how I ended the night feeling annoyed and disappointed. I guess I hurt the girls feelings. One of them got in touch, so I removed some stuff.