Comedy

‘Move out of my way, I live here!’ I was amazed to hear myself shout that at a tourist as I rushed through Soho last year. I felt that I’d finally settled in the capital. I was a Londoner. I own an Oyster card. I can give people directions, suggest bus routes and work out the tube system in my head, which is no mean feat considering I’m colour blind.

I always saw myself as a comedy tourist, but now I spend a lot of time in London and I love it. The pace is much crazier than in Scotland and the people dash around like ants on crack. In Glasgow, the pedestrians have that lovely zig-zag, pasodoble dance routine when they get in each other’s way. In London, it’s more of a ram raider’s approach to getting your own walking space. People will trample on you if you don’t move.
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London is a cold and horribly lonely place if you don’t know anyone. Don’t even assume you can smile at a toddler in a pram. They’ll give you a fierce look and a rude finger. Smiling at strangers in London is something you don’t do. It scares everyone.

When I first came down in 1995, I spent days without speaking to a soul until I got on stage at night. Then I went back to the flat where I was staying and never spoke again until my next open spot the following night.

I recall the very first time I saw my name mentioned in the Time Out listings. I was so excited that I showed it to random strangers on the tube. I never realised how hostile and scared people are on the trains. In Glasgow I chatted to anyone who came within a two-feet radius. The only person who ever spoke to me on the tube was a guy who asked me if I’d seen God.

Even that conversation dried up quickly, because I hadn’t.

I made friends with a homeless man outside Gap near Piccadilly Circus as he was the only person who would talk to me, though I did have to pay him in coffee and ciggies. Sometimes I’d crouch beside him. Once I saw a comedy promoter walk past. He looked at me with a vague nod of recognition. I shouted at him: ‘This is what happens when you don’t give people a gig.’ My homeless pal threw an empty can at him. You can get away with that in London, though, because it’s a city that accepts all and expects it.