And so, off to the sprawling metropolis that is Cardiff on a Saturday night, to sample the delights of my first comedy club for over 16 years. We knew it was going to be an entertaining night when upon arrival the girl on the front desk showed us to our seats, literally in front of the stage.
"Please don't converse with the comedians. Please. For me."
Her cries fell on deaf ears. Sure enough, the night began and out bounded the compere, the local comedian Bennett Arron. Up he bounces, onto the stage, and launches into his "Welcome to the Glee club. Please don't talk over the acts, turn off your phone, there's an interval etc etc." He then goes into his main act, which as usual starts off with the "let's converse with the audience" stage.
"Hi mate, what do you do for a living?"
"I'm a nerd," I reply.
"No really, what do you do for a living?"
"I'm a nerd," I reiterate.
"What's your Job Title?" he then tries to clarify.
"I'm a technical consultant," I respond.
"And you have a partner? Well done you. How long have you been together?" he then asks.
"Ooh, about 2 months" I reply. Meanwhile, Tania's claws are slowly but surely sinking further into my thigh. I can feel the heat of her glare as she stares at me.
"2 Months? Awwwwww, you two should be at home shagging."
It was at this point that my world collapsed. Tania decided she needed to contribute something invaluable...
"He's just had an operation!"
Bennett stood back, look of horror on his face. "He's just had THE operation?" It was at this point the 500 or so other guests roared with laughter. Tania frantically said "No, not THE operation. An operation...", but the damage was done. He asked what I'd had done, and I said about being de-herniated. Realising he could be on thin ice, he moved onto another couple 2 tables down.
The first act came on, a Geordie called Kevin Webster. My father would have been horrified as he launched into a tirade of filthy and unnecessary language, in fact so much so he even became tiresome. Dying on his arse, he eventually left the stage. There was an interval for smokers to go and smoke, toiletters to go and toilet and drinkers to go and get more drink, and when we returned my favourite Welsh comedian again bounded onto the stage.
"Welcome back. Ok, who had a pee?"
Half the audience cheer
"Who had a poo?"
A few people cheer.
"Who had sex?"
"Yay" says I.
He chuckled, then realised it was me. "You, of all people, didn't." Tania roared at that comment.
The rest of the night was entertaining with Lucy Porter scoring quite well, and then Tom Wrigglesworth, who was incredibly funny and the highlight of the night. About 5 rows behind us was a birthday party akin to a hen party, and the 8 or 9 women in the party were talking and messing about. Tom really took exception to this, and before long he started to ask them politely to be quiet. Eventually he was thoroughly fed up with them not heeding his request, so the requests got more and more insulting. Eventually his most scalding comment was "Shut the fuck up, you stupid cum sluts" which had the rest of the club cheering and whopping like a Jerry springer audience. It seemed to work, but unfortunately his act had been irreparably damaged and he never got the acclaim I believe he deserved.
We finally got home just before 1am, very tired, and have vowed to do it again soon.
Tania, however, insists that we don't sit at the front again. I'll make sure of it next time...
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