Yesterday I was a kind of low rent Keifer Sutherland as I stayed awake for pretty much 24 hours. I had got up stupidly early to play tennis (I was on the court by 7am for goodness sake, trying to ignore the fact it was raining as I was so impressed with my resolve). It's amazing when you get up this early how much time you have to do stuff. It felt like bedtime by lunch and I hadn't even set off for Hereford yet.
But rather than going to bed after the gig I went out drinking in a night-club (not something that I do too often these days) and was not in my Hereford bed until something approaching 5am. My campaign to behave like a 21 year old continues apace.
The problem with this, of course, was that I had to be out of my hotel room by 11, so it was a weary and confused and possibly still drunk Richard Herring who staggered down the becarpeted stairs of The Green Dragon hotel on my way to the check out.
I decided that it might not be the best idea to drive to Nottingham immediately and went into town for coffee. But after two nights where I'd slept for a total of ten hours (my usual one night total) Hereford seemed blurred and disjointed and wet (but that was more to do with the rain than my hangover). I had thought I might go and look at
the Mappa Mundi, but decided against it. I was in a dilemma. I knew that if I could get to Nottingham then I could go back to bed in my hotel there, but was aware that driving in this condition was inadvisable if not illegal. I couldn't remember if it takes an hour or half an hour for a unit of alcohol to leave your body and anyway couldn't remember how many units I had consumed.
At about midday I decided to risk it and set off on my way. Fortunately I neither crashed or got pulled over by the police, but it was a hard and tired drive which wasn't helped by my sat nav crashing half way through.
I made it in one piece and managed a 45 minute sleep before heading off to the venue.
It was a lovely penultimate performance of the show and even though I still felt a little worse for wear (and almost forgot where I was in the Kipling bit) it rocked along and I messed around more than usual. A middle aged couple on the front row seemed to be not paying too much attention to what I was saying, chatting and looking at their ticket and I wondered if they were accidentally in the wrong show. At one point I lightly chastised them for chatting, at which point the man leant round and theatrically kissed the woman. It was an unexpected response and I suspect they may themselves have been on the way to a hangover, but it was a gift for me. "What shall we do tonight? Shall we go to a comedy show, sit on the front row, not realy pay any attention to it and then half way through start petting?"
I was surprised to see them back for the second half and asked them "Did you have sex in the interval?"
"Me?" asked the man.
"Yes, who do you think?" I replied. Though in hindsight that response seems suspicious. Maybe he had had sex on his own and was surprised to have been rumbled.
It was such an enjoyable show that by the end of it I had forgotten my hangover and was able to start drinking all over again. It was a smart crowd who really got behind it and that helps so much.
I went to another club after the show, but didn't stay too long. I will be glad when I am 40 and can start acting my age again.
