Diary of a stand-up comedian
By John Ryan
Steve is excited. He is getting married next month and in an hour’s time his fiancée will be meeting him for lunch.
There are two slight concerns. One, he is with the other three acts from last night’s gig and, more importantly he went along to a lap-dancing club after the gig.
We have been ribbing him for an hour and whilst for him it’s getting boring and annoying to us his discomfort is adding to the fun.
He had a great gig last night, which was no surprise to us as he is developing a reputation on the circuit as one-to-watch. Unfortunately he hasn’t the confidence off-stage that he shows beneath the lights. Put a microphone in his hand and he would take on Mike Tyson but put a beer in his hand in the dressing-room and he becomes putty.
This is not normally a problem except that this weekend we are with Johnny — a legend on the circuit. Johnny knows how to show who’s boss. He is a very funny man but never really quite made it on to TV. So instead he travels the country storming gigs and leaving a trail of chaos in his wake. He is of the old alternate, anything goes school and enjoys the off-stage trappings of the circuit.
So put these two together and there was bound to be an event. The gig had got better and better so that by the time Mark arrived the audience were in a frenzy. A table of men in suits at the front had enjoyed themselves so much that they wanted us to hang out with them afterwards too.
They advised us that one of them was the owner of the local lap dancing club and that should we wish, they would take us as guests to their establishment for a beer and a night of fun. Now, the important selling point here was not the thought of girls dancing in very little clothing, nor the copious amounts of beer on the house, no no. The deal sealer was the fact that it was free entry for us.
Johnny asking: “Well, who’s up for it?” meant only young Steve could be his companion as we are too long in the tooth to hang out with the mad man.
His response was mixed with shyness and by the time he had decided he didn’t want to go, Johnny had his coat on, and the lad was out the door to the Lucky Legs Nightclub or whatever it was called.
We were still laughing when the text from Steve saying: “Help!” arrived at one in the morning by which time we were having our coffee in the hotel.
At breakfast Steve sat forlorn and hungover not sure of everything that had happened to him. Johnny, having re-christened him Mr Lovemonkey, regaled us with tales of Steve having two girls performing strictly non-Catholic dancing techniques using his head as a pillow.
Poor Steve sat mortified. By the time Johnny asked why Steve had gone off with the two African girls the poor boy looked ready to faint. He then produced the incriminating photo of Steve topless with a girl’s hand across his chest. The hand had bright purple nail varnish on and a huge gold sovereign.
Steve’s embarrassed groaning peaked when he spotted Lisa his fiancée at the reception as she had arrived to go and get the rings.
“Ask her for a dance first,” said Johnny much to our amusement.
Steve stood up and pleaded with us not to say anything and Johnny said he would have to tell the truth if asked. Lisa was clearly unhappy to see that the love of her life was hungover on such an important day and asked us what we had been up to.
“Nothing,” he replied, a statement that might have been more convincing had his face not been so green. She was unhappy. Mark and I could honestly say we hadn’t been out with him as we hadn’t.
All eyes turned to Johnny who with his face suddenly transformed to that of an angel said: “I saw the lad safely tucked up in bed at three this morning.”
Huge sighs were let out amongst the guys and Lisa was happy that her man had not been up to any wrongdoings. They left as the waitress cleared the table.
“Are these finished with?” she asked holding up a plate and the penny dropped. There on her hands was the bright purple nail varnish and sovereign.
Mark clapped and Johnny nodded before admitting that he had set up the photo in the hotel.
Apparently Steve had been so nervous that he had drunk loads and blacked out in the club before seeing anything. Johnny had put him to bed after persuading the waitress to do a subtle picture.
Plenty of relationships are ruined on the road before they start out he told us and he wasn’t going to let a young prospect go off the rails. His new caring reputation didn’t last long as he announced: “Does anyone want to come to a strip club tonight?”
Given his love of practical jokes I think I will pass.
Find John on www.comicvoice.com |
