In three weeks time I will be lying in bed, hungover, the night after I performed a show at the Sydney Opera House. HA HA HA HA HA HA.
That is ridiculous and should not be happening at all.
The odd thing is that I’ve had trying to play the House (as they call it) as my goal for so long now that it seems vaguely normal. I easily forget that I was cruising round the Pleasance Courtyard (where most of my show ideas seem to be made) last year just shooting the breeze about doing my first big hand sold show in London, when I thought it would be even funnier to do a hand sold gig in the most iconic venue in the world.
The key now is to make sure that I actually sell the tickets, otherwise this funny idea is going to be a very expensive mistake. I’ve already flogged over 60 of the 320, and if I carry on at this rate I should be OK. Those who follow my Twitter feed will know that finding a way to sell the tickets has not been easy. In the end the only way that I could make it work is that I buy the tickets myself, then sell them on. This makes me the first artist who is scalping tickets to their own show. it also makes me a woeful businessman.
With the ticket situation sorted, the next thing to work out was my route. I like to find a string of bars and pubs with outdoor areas and good people, then wander between them of an evening, flogging my wares. After a bit of investigation, it turns out Newtown is the place to go.
It’s denizens are tattooed, bearded and generally scruffy. The sort of folk who like Venn diagrams and don’t instantly think a man selling tickets to his own show is performing some elaborate sting.
All in all, things seem to be going well. I think. I’ll try to keep you updated more often but, lets face it, I probably won’t. Now, to head down to Sydney Opera House off to go and to spend $1500 on tickets to my own show……. None of it makes any sense.