I'm pretty sure I've never heckled a comedian before. I've definitely sat there in the row watching and thinking I have something pertinent and amusing to shout out. But my mouth always let me down and leaves me with a rush of adrenalin that is neither use not ornament. Ornamental adrenalin...Good name for an album.
Anyway I finally got to see Mark Watson tonight and I cried. Not in a depressed way, but in a mascara running, body crumpling, can't catch your breath giggly sort of a way. Which I certainly haven't done lately and after the day I've had today I rather needed. It was the re-enactment that tipped me over the edge - to tell you any more would spoil it. I could feel his awkwardness and pain in a scene so full of comedy I lost it somewhat. Children's TV has a lot to answer for.
This is why I can't write reviews. The only way to do it justice is to sum up what happened. But that seems unfair to someone who had a genuinely brilliant idea (and frankly he would admit a bit of a breakdown) and brought it to life. So I won't. You can buy a ticket.
Anyway before tonight I had never heckled. I felt like I needed to. I wanted to be part of this hilarious night god dammit. So what piece of pithy comedic wisdom did I shout out for my first foray into heckling?
Oh I named a village in Lincolnshire, nearly loudly enough for him to hear. I was then laughing so hard (at the word "Pinchbeck" and someone mentioning Spalding) that I wasn't concentrating when Mark asked for it to be repeated. So Paul answered him and he used it to raise a laugh. It could have gone worse but it was hardly my finest hour. I'm not sure I'll be heckling again.
Mark Watson though. Proper funny.
