So anyway, the hotel is a bit grotty...not horrendous but I shall be vacating it shortly and seeking alternative options.
My room is basically a low-budget version of Gaddafi's drainpipe hideout.
The owner bears a striking resemblance to renowned serial killer Dennis Nilsen.
I won't name the hotel until I've left in case he really is Dennis Nilsen.
I wouldn't want to upset him whilst I'm a resident here.
"Will you be out after 11.30?" he asked me, in a tone that suggested doing so would put him to enormous inconvenience...
"We don't have a night porter, so we'd need to make special arrangements if you were".
Thankfully, I can't think of any reason to be out after 11.30pm in Havant.
"Will you be dining in the restaurant during your stay? I'd recommend booking..."
Now I'd say, that the restaurant can accommodate 200 people, and I've only seen one table being occupied in the last three nights, so perhaps the warning about the need to book in advance is slightly overstated.
I went out briefly last night for a quick pint.
I tried two pubs, but on both occasions walked in, then did that "pretending you're looking for someone thing" and immediately walked backed out again.
Incredibly rough pubs...
"The 6 Bells" in particular was one of the weirdest pubs I've ever been in...a lot of people shouting at each other for no apparent reason.
It really reminded me of the pub featured in the last episode of "The Boys From The Blackstuff".
The bar that really fascinates me is "The White Hart" which has had a grand total of zero customers in the several times I've walked past it in the last 3 days.
It's not even open tonight!
In other news, I had a very enjoyable weekend of gigs at the Edinburgh Stand last week.
The previous week, I had a slightly less triumphant gig at the Frog and Bucket in Preston.
I kind of forgot that there was a "gong" element to the gig, and fooled around with my notes on the clipboard before I got going.
I made it half-way through the first joke, and oh fuck bloody shit, I was gonged off.
I don't think I even made a minute.
I never even noticed any cards going up.
If I was going to compare this gig to an historic event, it would be the assassination of JFK.
I never saw it coming...
Too bad as I had written some hilarious observations about Preston based on my afternoon there.
I headed to Manchester after the gig to help my brother prune his wine cellar.
In spite of everything, I love the way that stand-up comedy is always capable of severely punishing any hint of complacency.
The folk where I'm working for a few weeks are very friendly and good fun, so that's good.