Wednesday 17th May 2006

This infuriates me – even though I have a silly job that doesn’t mean I work 9 to 5, I always seem to end up driving in the rush hour. Whenever I get in my car, for whatever reason, it’s 5pm and I’m in a traffic jam. Today I had to drive to Leek in Staffordshire, and I spent the day getting some stuff done before walking down to the car and realising that once again it was exactly 5pm. It’s like I have a special body clock that makes me do this – a natural calling to the traffic.

And today was the worst ever. Having left at five, an hour later I was 2.3 miles down the road according to my dashboard. A HOUR! I could have driven to Leek in an hour, easily, and yet I’d not even made it out of Liverpool. If only I’d left at four… It’s ridiculous. According to traffic reports on the radio, the whole country was struck in a jam. The traffic announcer was almost bemused, and who could blame her? How can a country suddenly have a bad traffic day?

Perhaps it was something to do with the European Cup Final tonight – Arsenal Vs Barcelona. A mouth watering prospect that I ideally wanted to watch and so the fact I was going to Leek for a gig annoyed me. I was sat in my car feeling very negative. Which was wrong and foolish for reasons I’ll make clear in a minute.

I checked into the Hotel Rudyard, which is located in the village of Rudyard, a couple of miles outside of Leek. I couldn’t get a room in Leek because the Leek Arts Festival is going on (hence my appearance) and their limited hotels were at capacity. I asked the rather camp and friendly hotel manager if he could organise a taxi to take me into Leek but I always forget these things – rural towns have a massive problem with taxis. There’s always essentially just one bloke with a car and a mobile phone, and you have to book in advance. The hotel manager tried a few numbers “I’ll try this one, but they often down pick up on a Wednesday�. As in, they don’t often pick up the phone. Good Lord. I was feeling more negative.

I arrived at the venue which was basically a large village hall with a stage at one end, bar at the other, and lots of seats laid out in rows. I was told I was headlining, and so that gave me time to go to a pub up the road, The Black Swan, and watch the match. It was full of Leek’s intellectual elite shouting at the screen. You know you’re in a small town when someone wins the jackpot on the fruit machine and the whole pub reacts with shouts of disbelief and abuse, clearly this was quite an event in their lives. I felt more negative.

Arsenal lost too – despite a brave fight, playing with a man down after their goal keeper was dismissed about 15 minutes. I wanted them to win, and I sipped my pint thinking how I was going to get myself into the right frame of mind to do a show.

I trudged back down to the venue and went inside to see it packed out, completely at capacity, with many only finding room to stand at the back. Something in my head told me not to be an idiot and feel despondent about stuff – this was great – I was down in a new town for the night, these people had never had a comedy night before in Leek and were all up for it, friendly, and excited. I was getting paid good money. What did I have to be negative about?

The show was a blinder, I loved every minute. Most of the audience I guessed had never even been to see stand-up live before and loved the danger and intimacy that it offers. I was experimenting with the routines, trying to eek them out and take them a bit further, which is great for a comedian. After about half an hour the mayor walked in, complete with his chain, and stood at the back. This was an absolute gift. I welcomed him and said “I think it’s great you’ve bothered to come out and support this local event. If only the very last ten f---ing minutes.� The audience loved the fact I was having a go at the mayor, who took everything very well.

“Where’ve you been all night that was more important than this?� I asked

“Having sex.� He said.

This turned into a nice little idea about how in most towns the local press would love to find a scandal story about the mayor, but in Leek the mayor is just openly dirty and tells everyone about his sordid life. I tried to go on with other routines but was feeling mischievous and kept coming back to him. “Are you married?� I asked.

“Twice� he said.

“When you’re in bed, about to go to sleep, does your wife ever nudge you and say “Honey… put on the chain��?

The audience loved this bare faced cheek.

As a comic on the circuit, encores are rare and quite cherished. I knew they’d call for one tonight and so instead of saying a lengthy good-bye at the end, I put the mike into the stand and said “Thank you, bye� and ran off. This is the obvious sign to the compere that you’re up for more. Sure enough, the audience called for “More� but the compere, the very funny and completely on form Dave Twentyman, went up and started doing material.

“What’s he doing?� I sweatily said to another comic, annoyed.

“Agraman [the promoter] asked him to do another 10 minutes.�

I didn’t understand this. No comedy club works like this, and essentially it denied me the opportunity to say goodbye to the audience, not that it was Dave’s fault at all, he was just doing what he was told.

It was a shame but didn’t really spoil my night. The local press took photos of me with the major afterwards, and everyone said they’d had a great night. I’d taught myself a lesson I already knew. I have a great job, I’m very, very lucky, and I shouldn’t ever bemoan having to sit in a bit of traffic. Most people have to do that every day and hate their job. I love mine, it’s amazing I’ve somehow managed to make a career out of it, and I’m going to love every moment from here on in. Until the next bad gig.

Leek parties pretty damn hard.

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