Trip to Scotland and Ireland

Part III

Sunday, August 19th

Alright, I woke up at 2 PM.  I’m not going to try and get around that fact or lie about it.  I’m not going to tell you, “Today I woke at first light and spoke to the morning birds in hushed tones and ate early berries.”  No, I slept away half the day.

When I moved into the kitchen, Chris showed me an online review of their previous night’s show on a site called Chortle…and I made the review!  And they hated the show!  And they hated both of my characters too! They actually named my characters in their detest-filled recap and managed to screw up both names.  Here is part of the review:

“Then there was some hideous stuff from Future-Gay, with a crinkly wig that made him look like the Jack from a pack of cards, talking about a future where gays ruled the world, created gay babies and the straight resistance worked underground.

… and their mate along for the ride, singing the audience out as pastiche crooner, Barry Talent from Bermuda.”

I’m very psyched.  I’m in Edinburgh only a few days, I get some nifty stage time and then my performance finds a home in a 1-star review.  Perfect.

Soon after, Dave returned with his girlfriend Colleen who had just flown in from home.  The four of us then made our way to the Underbelly where we had to unfortunately cancel the show due to a small turn out. 

After Andy’s show, we all checked out Henry Rollins who performed a 70-minute piece that that included several of his wild travel stories in the Middle East.

Well, good night.

Monday, August 20th

I enjoyed a live, in person wake-up call from a Dave Walsh this morning.  The purpose of this assisted introduction into the morning was to enjoy a tour of the city.  The tour was lovely and no one got hurt.  My brain encountered new facts.

After performing in the Walsh’s show and watching a well-known Irish comic by the name of Sean Hughes, the entire group walked over to the Bongo Club to watch a cabaret show.  This show was nuts.  There was a guy that did these dreamy things with these glass balls that were the size of baseballs, sliding up to six of them all over his body at one point.  Then came an amazing set by Ann and Jonathan, friends of the Walsh Brothers.  This married couple performed a piece where they acted as an obnoxious, newly-wed couple that demonstrated their warped love for one another through dancing and other juicy stunts.  At one stage, they would take quick bites of bananas and spit the pieces high in the air as the other would catch.

Then came two trapeze ladies whose skill nearly blinded me (temporarily).  After the swinging dames, an odd dude name Frank Sanazi sang Nazi-themed lyrics to Frank Sinatra songs.  The last act I saw was a woman pretending to be Miss Australia 1964 and her mission was to perform the act that allowed her to win the Miss Australia title 43 years prior.  This act was simply whipping two white leather purses around in a choreographed fashion.  Simple but oddly entertaining. 

Tuesday, August 21st

Colleen, David and I walked up to Edinburgh Castle this morning and enjoyed its interior for a few hours.  Lots of old stuff, some spears, a few rocks…those kinds of things.

Afterwards, lunch was secured and then a performance at the Walsh Brothers show.  With the show finished, Dave and I met up with Colleen.  She told us that when she went back to the apartment earlier that day, there was a strange old man standing on a landing in the stairwell.  As Colleen approached him, the man said, “Well, I’ll guess I’ll let you pass.”

Creeped out, Colleen ran up the stairs, opened the door and shut it behind her as fast as possible.  A moment later, this old, odd chap was knocking at the door.  He then began to scratch at the door and stick his hand through the mail slot.  Colleen asked him what he wanted and he replied, “I want to invite you to a barbecue.” 

She then went to the window, yelled down to some men standing on the street below for assistance.  They went into the stairwell, came back up and shouted up to Colleen that the man was gone.  She then left the apartment building, met up with Dave and I, and shared this bizarre tale with us. 

In efforts to remedy her understandably heightened nerves, we ordered some beers and food at the World’s End pub.  Upon finishing our meals, we then received a call from Wendy, telling us that she couldn’t open the door.  The three of us quickly walked to the apartment, wondering if the old creep played a role in this lock foolishness.

Unable to produce and key-related success, we called a locksmith.  Before leaving, I looked in the mail slot and pulled out two flyers.  The flyer was promoting a barbecue at a nearby pub.  We all decided to visit this pub while we waited on the locksmith.  I ordered a round of drinks and had a conversation with the bartender.  He told me that the flyer was actually a ticket to the event that could only be found at the pub we were now in.  So it appeared that this guy went to the pub, picked up these tickets, and came into our building looking for a date.  It also appeared that this man may have actually been a resident in Dave’s building since he matched a vague description of a man that lived below our apartment. 

Confident with our semi-solved mystery, we enjoyed some beer.  I should also point out that the locksmith charged us 80 pounds ($160) to literally stick a device through the mail slot, over to the lock and disengage a locking device that accidentally became engaged when the door was closed.  He didn’t even fix or replace anything.  What I love most about this is that it could easily happen again and no attempt was made to prevent another 80-pound filled sorrow.

On our way back, we stopped at our trusty, late night take-out place.  Andy had the courage to order a fried Mars Bar…a disgusting creation that falls perfectly under Doktor CocaColaMcDonald’s category of “We Didn’t Need It But They Made It Anyway”.

Good night, y’all.

Wednesday, August 22nd

This morning I was greeted by two new visitors: Dot Dwyer from Boston and Denise Robichau from San Francisco.  Both of these ladies performed comedy in Boston and scored high in the areas of loveliness and friendliness.

After rapping with las ladies, Dave, Colleen and I decided to climb up “Arthur’s Seat”, a tall hill/mountain that furnished its guests with rock-steady views.  On the way up, Dave and I had an odd conversation with a woman concerning what looked to be a rabbit or gopher hole at our feet.  It probably didn’t help that I had my shirt off at the time.

We descended this elevated land mass and walked into city centre where we ate a fine meal.  After a walk home, some rest and a cleanup, everybody headed to the Walsh Boy’s show.  This was to be the last time I took to the stage in Edinburgh with the brotherly fellas. 

We then all ate at the outdoor food area at the Gilded Balloon.  While we did, “Mess Around” by Ray Charles started to play over the speakers.  This caused Wendy to sing and Dave to dance around the table in front of the bar staff and several strangers.  Dave stopped and Chris took over and then Wendy and then Mister Me.  The great part was when the song ended and we all panted heavily, the bar staff (with smiles on their naughty faces) put the same song on again.  We, in turn, repeated the performance.

When Andy’s show finished, we all decided to go on a ghost tour in the city.  Before entering the haunted vaults, the tour guide told us to let him know if any of us felt sick or light-headed.  We then descended deep into the vaults, we listened to Adam, the tour guide’s sub par ghost stories.  In one vault, he explained that one corner was home to a cobbler “so don’t be alarmed if you feel a chilling sensation in you feet.  The cobbler is fascinated with trainers (sneakers)!”  The other corner seemed to have a female ghost that seemed to dislike women.  The likely reason for this is because it is thought that this particular ghost lost a child in these vaults during her living years and now she was angry or jealous with living women.

Shortly after this story, a woman in our group moaned, “I don’t feel well.  I don’t feel well!”  She then collapsed to the ground.  I thought this may have been a planned event but when the woman stood up and barfed like a cat, I reconsidered my perspective.  Pretty weird and ultimately gross.  Adam led her out of the vaults while we were to fend for ourselves in the newly christened “Barf Vault”.  Chris and Dave’s response to all of this was to take pictures of the vomit.  Well done gents.

We eventually went to a cemetery, listened to mildly scary stories and then listened to Adam conclude the tour as a taxi pulled up in front of the grave yard.  The beauty came when he said goodbye, hopped into the taxi and took off, leaving the rest of us to suck our thumbs.

PART IV