A Comedy of Terrors
I dreamed that I’d hired the Bridgewater Hall in order to perform
my stand-up comedy act. Even in the dream I was aware
that I don’t have a stand-up comedy act.
I was sorting out my clothes to wear for the show, trying to decide on a shirt and starting to panic. I asked my wife the time and she said it was 7pm. I said, I should be there by now. The show starts at eight.
I was feeling really nervous. Terrified in fact. What on earth had possessed me to hire a theatre?
I don’t know how to use a microphone, I said.
The lights will be too bright. I haven’t been on a stage like that before.
I don’t know any jokes.
I asked her if anyone was coming. I was hoping no one was.
Mostly people we know, she said, but there are some strangers.
A couple are bringing their 15 year old son. It’s his birthday.
It’s a special treat for him. He loves stand-up.
I awoke from the dream but as I dozed I was still looking for a solution
to the problem I’d created for myself. I decided that I’d invite Tim
(that’s the name I gave to the birthday boy) onto the stage and tell him
that, for his birthday, I’d hired the theatre so that he could perform
some comedy. I’d hint that his parents were in on the surprise.
Then I’d hand the mic to him. He’d look horrified but I’d walk off
and it would be him, not me, having to stand there dumbly gazing
at a sea of expectant faces.
Oh stop it! He’s young. He’ll be ok. He might decide he likes it.
In no time he’ll be Live At The Apollo.