Giggaff
Last year our band were asked to perform at a charity gig in Deal, and the proceeds went towards buying a bus for some old folks. We only had to do a couple of songs and we were promised free nosh so we thought we'd come along.

We then found out it was something of a variety act night, so upon turning up to rehearsals we saw dancers, piano players, comedians and whathaveyou. The man running it however, was a moron.

How big a moron?

Well, 3 days before the event he realised (I say realised, he was TOLD) that in order to do a show you need someone to operate the lights and PA. Thankfully I knew a wonderful lady who was a proper stage manager and she agreed to help. We all kind of had a bad feeling about the gig ahead.

We then met one of the other acts. Glenda. The transsexual magician. I shit you not (http://glendadysphoria.blogspot.com/). When I met her, she had the boobs and was "saving up" to get the little fella excommunicated. She was also still attracted to women. There's a boatload of stories about this encounter alone but I'll save them for a more releavnt QOTW.

Anyway, the big night comes along and there's a nice smattering of audience. We were due to go on twice (we did one song each side of intermission), and whilst waiting around in "The Green Room" (the kitchen) we hear shouting. There was a live improv group on stage and we got the feeling something was up.

Now Glenda has something of a cult following, and two of these followers had decided to come along to the show. One was a 60 year old rastafarian with a string vest, completely and utterly bollocked off his face, and the other was a man of similar age who came in wearing a top hat, full length zebra skin coat and pants. They'd volunteered to do the live improv and things were getting a bit ugly.

Eventually they were persuaded to go and sit back down and the show carried on. We did our first song and since we had a couple of hours to kill, me and Ben (drummer) decided to sneak into the audience and watch the show, since Glenda was on next. Her show (no jokes please) was pretty good, but the rastafarian had become properly rowdy by this point. Out of nowhere 3 elderly bouncers dived on him and a fight broke out.

It was one of those profound moments where you think to yourself how all the little choices and actions you make in your life have lead you to be sat watching a transsexual magician whilst a drunken rastafarian gets the shit kicked out of him by some old men.

So we were on straight after. The curtain slides back and I look out at the crowd with a slightly bemused look on my face. I figured a witty one liner might lighten the mood a bit.

"Wow, what with he-she's doing tricks and fighting rastas, I feel like the most normal person in the room for a change!"

...nothing...

...nothing...

...then out of the audience...

"Fuck off, wanker".

Well, I tried.

Length? Length? You can't handle the length!
(GONEism, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 13:51, 2 replies)

ha ha
Made me laugh out loud. The people I work with think I'm mad now*

(*may already have thought that)
(dchurch bah, Fri 12 Sep 2008, 15:38, closed)

rasta
are you sure there was a punch up. However the bloke you mention is a moron.
(astraman, Mon 15 Sep 2008, 20:14, closed)