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Saturday 21st March 2009

I had managed to fall asleep despite the noise, but was woken at 4.30, not by a businessmen, but what sounded like four people in the next door room having a bit of a shouty party. The men sounded scary enough not for me to risk banging on the wall. Annoyingly though I am being sent some free earplugs from the people at snorestore who've been following my woes on Twitter, I hadn't got them yet. But I had some in ear headphones and tried them out instead and it worked fine. I got enough sleep to feel refreshed for my long day of driving.
I paid a couple of days coins into the Nat West in Wolverhampton this morning. Usually the teller will weigh the bags to check that they contain the correct number of coins. But today the teller just said, "Are they all the correct amount?"
And I said, "I think so."
And that was good enough for her. She took my word for it. The bank was quite busy and there were a few hundred pounds there, but whilst slapdash this seemed a much better policy than wasting five minutes to find out one of the bags was 1p down or up. As long as they look vaguely like they have the right money in them then surely it's a good policy to take it on trust. Someone could take advantage and put just 19 pound coins in 20 coin bags and make 20 pounds. But to be honest it's hard enough counting out 400 pound coins (and much more time consuming with the less lucrative 5ps and 1ps) that I don't think anyone would bother. And then the bank can get on with serving customers and making money.
For once the NatWest Bank have done something right. Not that I have ever written about them doing anything wrong.
I hope that that teller is not now sacked. Because she should be made manager and put in charge of writing letters to customers.
Most of the rest of the day was taken up with driving to Scotland. Although it was a long way to go the roads were pretty clear and I've been lucky thus far in that so far the journeys have gone without hitches or delays. By this time tomorrow I will have clocked up 3000 miles on this tour already and they've been stress free and enjoyable, except when I've been tired. Driving in the daylight is always more enjoyable and there was proper sunlight for a lot of the time (though whilst Beth Orton sang about a concrete sky on the radio, exactly that was above me, in uniform grey). The North West of England and the South West of Scotland have some breath taking scenery and I loved driving through it all.
I had to check into two hotels as I had booked myself one without realising that the comedy festival had got me one too. I gave away the room I booked (for cheap with no cancellation policy) to fan, madpixie who was coming to the gig and who raised huge amounts of money for this year's programme, so that seemed only fair. It's nice to give a reward to the proper fans and though she is a mad pixie (and not a comedy car carrying one at that) she has been a loyal follower for many years. Maybe if I offered everyone who saw my shows a free hotel room I would be more successful. Though another sell out tonight and footing the £15,000 hotel bills might have made that less cost effective. But I am sure I'd have got a discount.
It was a bit of a weird gig. There was an odd atmosphere beforehand, or maybe I was just tired, but although people were friendly enough it seemed a little bit tense somehow and there wasn't much in the way of hospitality, even though the gig was sponsored by Magners which would usually mean at least some cider in the dressing room (I got a slightly grudging couple of bottles of water).
The reception as I came on was phenomenal, but I sensed some unease as it became clear that the show was going to be a story rather than jokes. There were some drunker, younger guys in the second row who were a bit chatty and at one point asked me to tell a joke. I told them that that wasn't what was going to happen and that the show had been pretty funny so far, but if they couldn't concentrate on a narrative they should leave. The audience mainly seemed to be on my side. And about fifteen minutes later, after an unsuccessful attempt to get booze form the closed bar, the disruptive element left.
By the end everyone left seemed to be on board and they bought into the more serious stuff. Annoyingly though the staff at the bar had not heard my request that one of them should hold the bucket for SCOPE at the end. Before the gig I had personally put 300 programmes on the seats, and though there's a new batch just printed I only have a couple more boxes in my car to last til I can collect some more in Leeds. To only collect about twenty pounds from the people caring enough to hand the cash to me when I was doing autographs was very disappointing - as if Glasgow had been as generous as everywhere else SCOPE would have made £300. If any of you Glaswegians were frustrated in your attempts to donate then you can visit my justgiving page and donate there.
The staff just seemed anxious to get everyone out asap and my calls to find the buckets were ignored. More galling as I walked back through the room that was being hastily taken apart (presumably it was about to be a nightclub) the floor was littered with programmes, but there wasn't time to pick them up and they were probably damp with beer and trodden on. But that left me slightly despondent.
I headed back to one of my hotel rooms for an early night - I was a the swanky Hilton opposite the venue, rather than the less swanky Ibis in town that I had let my superfan go to - she's not that good a fan to get the better hotel!
In the room there was a bottle of red wine and one glass that I hadn't noticed right in front of the TV. I hadn't noticed it earlier, but there was a chance it was there. Has some Twitterer or audience member got it delivered to my room (I had mentioned my hotel on stage and on Twitter)? If so there was no note or indication that it was mine. Or indeed a corkscrew. Were the hotel trying to trick me into purchasing some wine that I didn't want. The bottle of mineral water sitting on my desk has a big sign on it saying that it costs £3.95. If the wine is that exorbitantly priced this free hotel might end up costing me as much as the one I paid for.
I'd ring down to reception, but unbelievably there doesn't seem to be a phone in the room. I don't actually want a drink, but I'll take the bottle with me if it's mine.
Most strange.

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