I was out a bit too late last night. I was celebrating Brendon Burns’ birthday; the lovely and lively Aussie comic has the same birthday as my sparky daughter. Brendon is a good mate and he had a good old bunch of mates in the rib joint in Soho last night, sitting around enjoying his company. I ate so much meat I almost had a heart attack.
As if that wasn’t enough excitement, this morning as I headed with luggage and belongings to the NZ High Commission to get my work permit that I forgot to get before I leave London (I am old and very forgetful), I passed three Arab looking dressed men outside a café and as I lugged my huge case along the streets of London, they smiled and muttered something to me.
Stupidly and I mean Fucking stupidly I stopped and asked him what he said as I thought it was rude of me to ignore what the man in the white robe said to me.
His dark eyes flashed, he rubbed his moustache and smiled then said “My friend wants to finger you”.
I stood there for a second, all hot harassed and sweaty and looked at him, they all laughed and hissed at me!
I let my case rest on my leg as I put up one finger and replied
“You mean finger me the way your mother fingers Allah?”
That wasn’t what he expected back I suppose, but then he never considered checking who he was insulting…certainly never anticipated an angry tired Scottish shouty woman who laughed loudly at her own retort!
The three men shouted and caused a big situation; one stood up and screamed at me as I was getting my case into roller mode to walk away
“You must never take Allah’s name in vain, how dare you!”
“Well mate you insult me, I insult your God, trust me I do it with Catholics, Jews, in fact any religion…I am not fussed, you annoy me I hurt you back, I am Scottish that’s what I do, now get fucked and take your big misogynist face out of my way or I will tell you how I think Allah is gay”
I left them shouting at me as I laughed loudly all the way to the NZ High Commission building to plead quick passage to my favourite country in May.
I got on the train to Bristol, it’s about two hours away from London, I am here for three nights working at Jongleurs Comedy Club. The four star Thistle Hotel in Bristol does not have broadband internet! I have to dial up some shitty number and pay something like a pound a minute for internet! How shit is that? I am so fucking sick of big hotels that charge expensive rates for shit landline charges on the web! I mean their internet is more expensive than a flight to LA fist class pound for pound!
I hate that, when are big hotels going to suss that business people will start leaving their hotels in search of some places where they can access the web?
So here I am three days away from home, I cannot wait to get there and thank husband for driving all the way to Edinburgh and hand delivering my adverts safely to the Fringe Brochure people to beat the deadline tomorrow night. Thanks big guy…I love you.
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