Last night I watched a truly dreadful show at the Edinburgh Fringe. I'm not going to tell you which one it was because I'm performing at the fringe myself, so it's not my place to criticise my peers. It was one of those typical fringe evenings where everything you fancy seeing has already sold out, so you end up taking a punt on somebody that you've never heard of. As someone who's not a huge fan of mixing music and comedy, I knew I wasn't going to enjoy the show within the first minute when a guitar appeared on stage. My immediate instincts were to quit while I was ahead and try to quietly sneak out of the back of the room. The one problem with my plan was that's easier said than done when you're sitting in a large powered wheelchair.
Typically at gigs, wheelchair users get the Hobson's choice of sitting at either the very front where you risk the eagle eye of the comic picking on you; or the very back where you get to see bugger all and feel a bit left out of the whole thing. The anonymity and decent views offered by the middle of the auditorium usually seem to elude us. On this occasion I had the double whammy of being at the front and hemmed in both to the side and back of me by two fellow wheelchair users. Therefore as there was no possible way of escaping without causing one hell of a major disruption, I resolved to sit it out in boredom for the remaining 59 minutes.
But I partly couldn't bring myself to leave because I could remember how I've felt on the rare occasion when I've noticed someone sneaking out at the back during one of my shows. Comedians aren't very good at dealing with rejection, even at the best of times. A little part of me feels hurt and betrayed that they've broken the commitment they made to me when they purchased their ticket. After all, our fair-weather relationship was supposed to last for a full hour, so it's only natural to wonder where I went wrong. Yes stand-up comics really are incredibly bad at coping with being rejected!
After a walk-out I will then typically spend the next couple of minutes with one eye on the door, hoping they've just nipped out to take a quick piss and they'll be coming back to pick up our relationship where they left off.
So despite being quite literally a captive audience member, I'm glad I stuck it out till the end last night. In truth the show probably wasn't as bad as I thought it was. Indeed the rest of the audience seemed to be having a whale of a time. I even grudgingly quite enjoyed one or two of the songs and sang along to the closing number.
I guess when it comes to relationships I'm the type of person that's in for the long haul.
Laurence Clark: Inspired. The Edinburgh Fringe Festival @ 17.20 Underbelly, Bristo Sq.