Caring Folk

I’m not sure what goes through the minds of University Ents officers when they book in a comedy night, but using last night’s gig as an example it seems as though their thoughts were ‘lets waste some comedians time, and not give a shit’. This doesn’t generally seem to be the mind set of a lot of uni gigs but at Middlesex Uni it was a whole new level of not caring. It was as though they had specifically made a point of deciding not to care, then not caring about that fact and all the while taking a dump on the idea of a comedy night. A big dump of no care. 

When I arrived there was no one there who had any kind of managerial skills around. One man made himself to be some sort of union chieftain by hanging around the lighting box. I approached him and for 1 minute he completely ignored me despite me being right next to him.He looked unnervingly like a mini version of one of the blokes in Hollyoaks, although I’m not sure which one, but he was acting just as badly.  It probably unnerves me more to know what characters are in Hollyoaks.  When he did turn around he opened with, ‘You know how to use all this right?’ This threw me a bit and when I said no, he told me that it was all very easy and that he would show me and proceed to tell me what button is for the cd and what’s for the mic. I explained to him that I have no idea of sound desks (I am an idiot in that field) and I have to be on stage so can’t do it. He just kept saying how easy it was, even though it obviously wasn’t easy enough for him to stay there and do it himself. 
I went to find some sort of manager and finally when one appeared he also ignored me and Kevin Dewsbury, before sending his cohort, a women who looked lobotomised, around the room to hold a tin for money but not ask anyone for any money. She did this for 5 minutes then gave up and had to have a sit down because her brain was melting. Perhaps it was just a way to charge the car battery that was keeping her going. The manager then tells us it was a big night on campus the previous night and that they probably should’ve cancelled the gig. He then did a shrug that translated into ‘I’m a massive fuckwit’, and then he went home. Leaving us, mini-Hollyoak and a crowd who were mostly not caring about comedy and standing at the bar talking away. After working out the sound levels for the mic, we started and the 20 or so people who wanted to watch the comedy were very nice, but couldn’t really hear the show due to the 40 or so people talking lots. I did the usual thing of trying to make them shut up, then getting the crowd to make them shut up, and they did the very polite thing of not paying any attention to us whatsoever. Something made them leave by the time Kevin went on and the gig became just about bearable, if only in comparison to the torrid unbearable mess it was before. 
I’m off to Bristol today. It is snowing there again apparently. It seems as though I am following the snow around the UK like a weak version of one of those hurricane followers. I’m less likely to see a cow whisked up in a tornado as an old man shivering a bit in the park. Still thats more the sort of role Bill Paxton would play nowadays isn’t it? Less Twister finder, more shivery old man. As I type this, This Morning is showing an article with some gimp from Coronation Street going to the Maldives. This is visual punishment. It feels like its a personal attack by Eamon Holmes on us less gross people. Its like he’s spitting in my eye with his horrible fat man spit. My feet are cold and I’m going to have to drive in the snow while some arse parades around in 31 degree heat and on a paradise beach. I hope that at least as she tried to land at Heathrow her plane had to circle for 4 hours due to snow on the runway.