Though the sun is out for Day 96 of my THREEHUNDREDANDSIXTEEFIVE challenge (and indeed, for the first time in 2013), it’s still not quite “T-shirt weather”, not that that has any impact on my outfit choices this year. Thankfully, I do still have a choice in which T-shirt I will wear and today I have opted for this Bench number, and for good reason.
There’s nothing all that significant about it (it was a standard purchase from Ashford’s factory outlet I believe, and bears all the usual hallmarks of a Bench T-shirt design including illustrated urban street furniture collaged among a variety of stitching and flocking details, all curiously framed into the right armpit), but I once wore it out for a stand-up comedy night with friends a few years ago, and as I’ll be at another comedy gig later today, it seemed apt to stick it on.
Those that know me well will know that at any given moment, I am liable to do or say something that will render me a jackass for the rest of the day. Two people who did not know this about me, but found out in rapid succession, were TV comedians Rich Hall and Lee Mack.
The King’s Head pub in Crouch End is a uniquely decorated drinking establishment that has a live performance space in the basement with all the charm of an air-raid shelter. The confined slither of a staircase that joins the two is where I bumped into Rich Hall, and in my star-struck, semi-inebriated state, and way before I’d gathered enough data on the unfolding situation to generate some decorum, I realised that I’d already grabbed hold of the comedian’s shoulder as he was trying to pass me. This of course left no wriggle room; I would simply have to plough through the situation and I did so with the gambit “Heyyyyyyyy!” swiftly followed by the ever-popular “you alright?” He told me that he was and then beat a hasty retreat up the stairs.
Not my finest moment.
Returning to my seat and feeling like a bit of a pillock, I attempted to relay the encounter to my friends who could barely hear me over the live band that had appeared on stage in my absence. I decided to use this to my advantage though, and twisted the story a little to save face; I tried to make out that Rich Hall blew me off and was anything but approachable for his fans. As I spun the story out I developed it into a mock-rant about the arrogance of celebrity comedians and how their fans are regarded as “little people”. My friend Gemma began to gesticulate wildly, which at the time I interpreted as an indication to exaggerate my story further and raise my voice to a more damning decibel level. It transpires that she was urging me to turn around subtly and shut the hell up immediately, as TV comedian Lee Mack had joined the group, drawn to my lecture about TV comedians.
Again, not my finest moment.
