Edinburgh Festival is any performer’s dream. To come to the biggest theatre festival in the world and hustle your way on to the international stage, and hopefully score invites to other parts of the world. This year, that dream came true for me. Although, I must admit, I was hoping to come as a more seasoned, travelled comedian. But alas, a Higher Power knew better than me.  I find myself popping many a performance cherry here: First time performing comedy outside  Africa (I’ve already done Ghana so out of SA isn’t new). So, first overseas club gig, first overseas one man show, first month-long run of my show ANYWHERE. First time away in a foreign country by myself, without a cast or someone holding my hand. (OK, my manager Taffia did some hand holding for a week then returned to SA.) Still. My comfort zone is light years away. But my goodness am I having  a good time! I cannot remember the last time I really scrutinised my material, and been so conscious of the rhythm of my gags and set as a whole. 

Gone is the comfort of the easy laugh, those quick references that win my South African audience over in seconds and we have a jol afterwards. Now I dig deep in my universal library of references. I look for alternatives, replacements. I curb my racist enthusiasm because the UK is so darn PC and I kill my darlings. I panic that my identity as raw and apologetic is diluted by all this clever sugar-coating I suddenly have to do.  I discover gems among some skeletons. But honey I sweat through each of these. 

I am learning to trust that I actually, really am funny. One night I had three people in the audience and they were in hysterics. For an hour! And I thought to myself, “well, if you can show 3 people a good time and enjoy yourself, there’s hope yet!” Mind you, I walked onto stage, saw the 57 empty seats and shouted “WOOHOO! Full house!” And picked on some empty seats. It was fun. And I got to comfortably practice my material. Of course the comedy gods were merciful and decided to cut me some slack when I had a club gig booking for 2am. I arrived an hour earlier than my call time and ended up replacing a no-show headline act. And DESTROYED. I had so much fun in that club, all I wanted to do for the rest of the festival was club gigs. Nothing like an audience that just wants to have a good time. An audience that’s open to new experiences. A real comedy audience. But alas, the audience changes like the weather and you need to go with the flow. Or get eaten alive.

So in this first week I realise that there is work to be done. More writing, and more making the stage my bitch. 

Herstory rewritten:

31 July: Assembly Gala (5 minutes): 

Had a great time, great energy, killed. Great responses post the performance. Confidence boosted (forgot that 5 minutes is easy, long haul is the real test).

1 August: Herstory begins

Great energetic start, nerves took over, set completely out of whack and I feel like I am desperately tap dancing. Set 15 minutes short – Keep checking time with the audience, which in itself becomes a gag. They loved it. Half the room filled.

2 August

3 people in the audience. Great fun when it became a big gossip session between me and the audience. Shook their hands when they left and they promised to spread the word. I discover new gags here and note them.

3 August

About 10 in the audience. Migraine making me work doubly hard. And I realize I really need to pee minutes before but the doors are already open – My most uncomfortable time on stage yet. Suspect there is a reviewer in the audience and ask that if they are there, to please ‘miss’ their deadline and come watch me again on a good night lol! Their applause continues for a while after I have left the stage, I must have done well. I consider asking that my show now be billed as a 50 minute show.

4 August Spank! (Sold out with some people standing.)

I get in there is see international talent from UK and New Zealand. I get on that stage revved up for a good time. They go wild for me. My ego is thoroughly stroked as the event organizer asks to book me again. I am really hungry for that feeling of dominion over my audience, and countdown to my next performance.

Oh, then I get lost trying to get home and accost a bicycle-cab guy. Expensive, but good laugh all the way home as ‘Thunder Thighs’ struggled uphill with me getting a full view of his tiny ass and hard-working calves. Those guys must be on drugs. If they aren’t then they should consider it lol!