Post Show Come Down

It’s funny how after two sell out shows, 2 days apart that you feel were both amazing your left wanting to kill yourself? Ok maybe that’s a dramatic lead in line but it caught your attention. Last week saw the final of Burger Queen and with it a series of emails from ‘friends’ trying to wangle a ticket for the long sold out fat romp, Lisa Stansfield did a duet with me, my Mum cried a lot at the support from ‘the people’ and Gloria Swansong was crowned the winner with her version of ‘Bitch’ – all the contestants really pushed it out and an emotional but uplifting evening was well spent! From an idea I have on the 24 bus in 2010 to a really cohesive competion in 2012 I was on top of the world. I had no time to come down to earth from the events of the previous evening before me and my devoted assistants were in Primark buying silly outfits for Camp.

Friday was spent mainly talking aloud, to myself ‘I just need to calm down', it was then I realized I was going a bit funny and a Pret sarnie was called for. After a day of packing, prepping and panic attacks (maybe being overly dramatic here), I made manic phone calls to insurers to buy public liability insurance, red tape. Before I knew it I was in a cab enroute to the Roundhouse on Saturday morning to tech lights for my new project Camp. At the start of the day we had sold 51 tickets, by lunch we were sold out and so the pressure to deliver was on. Any show off will tell you that your first experiment into a new project is rough around the edges and informs you how it develops but from the moment they were in they were LOLing and the show was as strong as I expected it to be by the end of the run, flowers were sent to stage door, producers were praising me and post show drinks finished at 5am – success was mine.

It is now Monday, my flowers are wilting in front of me and they seem to be the perfect analogy for my disposition. Post show come down is an awful state of mind, after working hard towards something for such a long time the applause finishes, the flowers die and you seek your next high. Show business is possibly the worlds most addictive drug but also the most volatile, with Sundays hangover cured by swiftly downing some milk thistle when I got in I can understand the effects of a hangover – booze, post show come down has no such perpetrator you can accuse – the reason you feel like shit is because you want to be liked again and this time for longer, isn’t that a sad state of affairs? I texted one of my assistants Josh (who has also been on the same rollercoaster since Thursday) on Sunday to make sure he hadn’t topped himself from the post show come down but he was happily stuffing his face and probably watching ANTM.

My peers call me ‘the hardest working tran in show business’, some mock me for the pace in which I make work but if you take into account the feelings of the last 48 hours its no surprise I never want my feet to touch the ground. This is me being honest, I’m not on the verge of a breakdown or being dramatic (I have my moments) I’m just being honest about showing off, tomorrow I’ll be in rehearsal for Unhappy Birthday and with that the emotions will have past, show business is a funny game isn’t it?

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