I did that awful thing I do last night: I gesticulated. Not wildly, but just enough to reach back into my blind spot and knock over someone’s drink, just outside my peripheral vision. I barely felt it; I was alerted to the incident by a collective intake of breath, the like of which only happens at circuses and in road safety adverts with toddlers in them. Luckily, the drink missed its owner’s clothes. Unluckily, it sploshed all over her boyfriend’s.

The drink was wine. Not only that, it was red wine. Not only that, the boyfriend’s blue jeans now had a big splodge of stainage where stainage shouldn’t be. I instantly whipped out my (slightly fuller post-gig) wallet, trying to buy myself out of embarrassment. There was no doing so, because they took the completely unreasonable stance of being really, really lovely about it. No, I couldn’t buy her another drink – they and their friends had a bottle on the go and they had plenty. So I turned to the stainage issue: could I at least offer to pay for the jeans to be dry-cleaned? No, because – ha ha! – that would probably cost more than the jeans did in the first place. They were very stylish so this was an outright lie, unless they thought I was offering to have the jeans dry-cleaned in….I dunno…heaven? Heaven Stain Removal -Not Just For Souls Anymore.

I know I’d have been fuming. I was fuming. I wasn’t the one who’d had a flamboyant oaf empty fermented grape juice all over me because of some story, but I was the one who hadn’t been allowed to redeem myself. I hadn’t been allowed to demonstrate quite how much compensation someone would have had to do had I been the wet one. I’d have taken the drink and the dry-cleaning money and let the poor embarrassed oaf get some sleep. Truth be told, I didn’t lose that much. But I did wake up early. I really, really hope that wine comes out. Sorry!

Other than that, it was a fine old night. There were a few new faces at the London Comedy Improv show as well as our fantastic regulars with their top suggestions. Hope they had as much fun as we did, because we had a lot of fun and they had paid in.

We were then joined by the guys from Newsjack, who’d been recording around the corner. They are intimidatingly talented – you really should check them out. It was they who introduced us to my flailing victims, which probably explains why they were so nice about it; our paths may well cross again PLUS they are, simply, lovely. Oh dear. Strait-jacket for Flynn…mind you, that wouldn’t be the first time one had been requested.

And now, because I’ve had a week of people very kindly plugging stuff I do, here’s some reciprocation. If you don’t already subscribe to Precious Little podcast, you really should. Tiernan Douieb, who was great in last night’s Improv has a blog you should read too.

And Matt Scutt does the artwork for us at the Improv and has some tricks up his sleeve for my planned Edinburgh show, too. Keep you posted. And postered. OK. Bye!

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