Chris Addison and a late night

Some comics work off great jokes, some by being outrageous and some just have a knack of being engaging. In the latter category comes Chris Addison. This was the first time I had seen him do stand-up - he is rather better known as an actor in The Thick of It (and in Skins for the younger audience) - and he was well worth seeing (I had to turn down an NME awards show so he had something to live up to).

As I say, I didn't exactly come away with a great joke that would crack me up when I recalled it, but loved the evening. He is one of those comics who makes you feel he is just a bloke at a bar holding court.  And nicely able to poke fun at middle-class attitudes, just by being unashamedly middle-class. Like the little bit he did on his family all standing round the TV and watching the riots, endlessly tutting and saying how awful it was, before someone said "Shall we open a bottle of wine?" Anyway, my mate and I both very much gave him the thumbs up.

Thursday night was a simpler one, although had taken a couple of months to organise. Just meeting up for a drink and a meal with two of my younger friends, both ex-colleagues. Now, if one collects antiques, one hopes to find the rare gem that no-one else spots, because you have greater insight and understanding than the rest. In friends I do have the odd shy retiring type that I am very fond of but most people wouldn't maybe much notice. These two don't fall into that category. They are the popular types that anyone will obviously like. Which has the disadvantage that trying to meet up at a time all three of us are available takes a bit of doing. They have bigger fish to fry than me.  But this time we managed it and met up in a pub in London Fields. Now London Fields, and much of the East End, is becoming the trendy place for young professionals to live in - hence these two do. And for me its entirely foreign territory.

So we had a couple of drinks in this pub (According to its website, "This iconic pub..." although what made it iconic passed me by) and then found a Turkish restaurant which was doing its very best to look closed, but on persevering was actually willing to serve us (although the waitress did not exactly seem overjoyed at her job. Smiling was probably an extra but we didn't notice it on the menu).


While one of us slipped off early with a cold, my host invited me back to see his new flat - very nice, modern, sleek lines with great views, but right over a railway line. You can rarely have everything. Then back for another drink at the pub where we were met by one of my mate's flatmates. Lodgers help pay mortgages for those starting out on the property owning ladder, and being an ex-boarding school type he is used to living amongst lads. Now, this being London, of course you get every nationality. So this guy is an Aussie of Fijian Indian stock. Rather trumps my Polish/Scottish parentage.

Anyway, one drink led to another, and the dynamic of someone different in the conversation just sometimes takes things on a longer run. So we all go back to their place again with a bottle of whisky and on we go. And on. Really not a good idea for me as I generally just drop down to spirits at the end of an evening and then just the one. So this was too much for me. But I got a second wind about 2am. And we finally called it quits sometime after 4. I ended up on the sofa and slept quite happily for 2-3 hours, at which point I really noticed just what a busy railway line he lives over.

Well, he had told me we would be catching an 8:30am train, but he didn't seem to be coming, at which point I surmised he might have forgotten me, or decided to let me be, being an old bloke and needing my beauty sleep. So I texted him - no response. Then knocked gently on his door - no response. So finally crept into his bedroom and sure enough he had slept through two alarms. So off we went to work slightly blurry-eyed (and via the healthiest of cafes, positively bursting with organic whole grains and coffee beans hand picked by only the happiest of peasants.) Friday was a tough day in the office. In hindsight, was glad another mate had blown me out of meeting up after work, and had to turn down meeting up with another friend at my local comedy club. Would have been nice to see her again, but I was in bed by 7pm. And asleep by 7:01pm.

But I don't regret it. Of course stupid not to realise when I have had too much to drink at my age. Triumph of hope over optimism. I cannot compete with a bloke who is a 6 foot plus 31 year old rugby player with a gym-honed body, when I am 5 foot 4, 49 and haven't been in a gym since 1982. But actually just loved the drunken conversation. The Aussie Fijian just added a lot more to the mix - a good three way conversation is hard to beat. And you kind of get to know people when they are drunk enough. And he is well worth getting to know. People generally are. It beats watching Eastenders.