By about six o'clock it was beginning to feel like the longest day of my life. After the interview I'd tried to buy a replacement bike from back home. Skype the shop, ask for the exact same bike I'd already bought from them. Simple.
No, no, no. Skype decided I had no credit left when I attempted to make the call, and by the time (2 mins) I went to their website and bought some more they'd suspended my account. An hour wasted. An hour that could have been spent sleeping. 45 minutes before being picked up, that'd be enough for a quick snooze.
This time my sheer exhaustion meant I was able to nod off very quickly. When I woke I had one of those, "please let me sleep. I'll pay you back for the accommodation and the flights and everything. Please. Just leave me here" moments
Barbara knocked round, "Shall I expect you for breakfast? It finishes at 10 but I can keep it out until 10:30 if you want" Awh. She's lovely.
Mind you, it's clearly not going to happen as I've a whole day pencilled in for my appointment with sleep. Aah sleep.
Joe Parker picked me up and I realised why the club was called Parker's Comedy and Jive. Yup, pure coincidence.
He's been doing comedy for a long, long time. He's been doing it since the days when it was acceptable to say in the UK the things they say on stage in South Africa today.
Parker's is at the MonteCasino, about 1km from the guest house. Joe set the club up last December in a room that's perfect for comedy and, tonight, packed with 300 people supporting the Wet Nose Charity (I think they rescue dogs).
When we got to the door, a girl greeted us as if we, the comedy royalty, were customers, "Can I help you?" Cool as you like Joe said, "Hi. We're the entertainment. This is Rob, he's the international comedian". I like Joe Parker. That's not how I'd have reacted, that's for sure. I'd have been a dick.
"Can I help you? Yes, you can help me. You can get the fuck out of my way. I'm Joe Parker. I'm fucking Joe Parker. As in Parker's Comedy. Look at the sign. That's my name or did you think it was a pure coincidence?"
I decided to watch the first two acts before settling on my set, but that was a fruitless task as I didn't have a fucking clue what they were going on about.
Somehow I muddled my way through 38 minutes and that was that; time for sleep. Well, sleep or the temptation to drink at the bar. Oh go on then.
"What's the best beer you sell?"
"Black Label"
"Cool. Sounds good."
I kid you not; their favourite beer is Carling Black Label. Fuck me; what else you got behind there? Cans of Breaker?
So that's that. First gig done. Feeling very positive about this trip ... and completely exhausted.
Bed.
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