12/06/05 The Beat Goes On

Lucia : The Queen of Scottish Samba 

I'd intended spending today trying to sort out some stand-up ideas and sketch-type things for the Fringe show. I've got quite a busy week coming up. I'm doing The Stand in Glasgow on Tuesday, a Bike Charity benefit gig in Edinburgh on Thursday (with the legendary Mr Phil Kay), an Amused Moose gig in Perth on Friday, and a spot at Richard Pulsford's birthday bash on Saturday. In addition, Patrick and Tony are coming through to Edinburgh on Friday and Saturday to work on some ideas for the Fringe show.
So I decided to go through to Glasgow to play samba at the West End Carnival. Well, it was another top sunny day. An impressive display of willpower.
Glasgow people get more up for these sort of street parades than their Edinburgh counterparts. It was just a pity that it started pissing with rain really heavily half way through the parade...
Good fun though.
I stopped for a Chinese carryout on my way home.
As I waited I noticed that the (loud) record playing in the restaurant was stuck in a loop.
It was some lilting French folk song. At the chorus, it would do that CD scratch/repeat thing a few times, stop jump on a bit, play another 5 seconds, stop, then go back to 30 seconds before the same chorus, and the debacle would all start again. I must have heard this cycle about 20 times in the time I was waiting in the restaurant. It was driving me insane, and I was only there for about 15 minutes.
I couldn't understand how the rest of the diners and waiting staff were tolerating it. Nobody seemed that bothered.
Just as I was leaving I mentioned to the waiter, "Isn't that record driving you mad?". He just shrugged and laughed.
I'm obviously too sensitive. I felt like I was being softened up psychologically in Guantanamo Bay, to make me more amenable to sustained interrogation. It really was that annoying, believe me.
In a similar vein, I can't go to the cinema at weekends any more. I turn into the Incredible Hulk. It's the culmination of mobiles going off, "text received" bleeps, watches beeping on the hour, people munching "industrial skip" sized containers of popcorn, cellophane sweetie wrappers being unwrapped (most annoyingly when people try to open the sweets stealthily, rather than just get it over with quickly), people talking and people farting, coughing, sneezing. It's hell. I'd rather stick cocktail sticks in my eyes, or do a lunchtime comedy spot at Becogent Call Centre in Airdrie.