Very lazy day today. Trying to pace myself as this is only the 37th bank Holiday weekend this year, another 104 of them to go. I swear there used to be about 3 bank holidays in a year when I was a kid, although that was in the north; maybe they can't afford as many up there. Just had an email from the 'Thames Variety Branch' of Equity... I had no idea I was a member of the Thames Variety Branch. The main thrust of the email seems to be a nationwide hunt for a "bottle player", urgently required for Summer Season in Mablethorpe. What the fuck is a bottle player? And more importantly how soon can I learn?

Went for a "high powered" meeting with a big film producer today. Odd really as I haven't written a film, nor am I going to be in one (not "ever"; just in the foreseeable future). The meeting was about a musical I've been asked to write (just as well 'cause I can't sing or dance). Before the meeting I parked in Golden Square and there was 57mins left on the meter; surely the gods were smiling on me. They didn't smile for long; as soon as I shut the car door I projectile vomited five times in the gutter. Five times. I'd felt a bit queasy on the way there but the air conditioning seemed to settle me a bit but as soon as I stepped into the warm afternoon sun I repeatedly heaved a bright ribena red liquid into the street splashing anyone within a five metre radius. I can't imagine I'm the first person to wipe vomit off his shoes before going into a meeting in Soho; Jeffery Bernard would have been proud of me. 
 

After my meeting I drove to Southend on Sea to see Joe Longthorne in concert. Mr Longthorne is from the same part of Hull as me and as well being a fan of his I wanted to see how he'd recovered after his recent battle with cancer. As I took my seat, apart from realising I was the only person in the theatre that didn't have a loyalty card for Elizabeth Duke of Argos, I noticed the woman to my immediate left would not stop looking at me. As I took my seat it was the only one remaining on the row so it was hard to conceal the fact that I had gone to see a show on my lonesome. I felt her pikey, piggy eyes burning into me but of course I couldn't say anything… because she was old. When I say old she must have been about sixty; not ancient but old enough to get away with such a social faux pas. After about two minutes I decided to turn and lock eyes in battle; not that it would last long, there was no way I could lose, she obviously didn't even realise I knew she was starring. I turned quite quickly hoping to use the element of surprise for a split second knock out. Boom, I turned, eyes slightly narrowed in a "eerrrr, excuuuse me???" expression. She remained motionless. Well, not entirely motionless, her saggy turkey neck wobbled gently under the weight of her gold earrings and Deidre Rachid glasses. 1, 2, 3 seconds, she's still looking at me, eye to eye direct contact. This woman's good. OK, now we're at about 5 seconds, she's got to buckle anytime now, anything longer than this and it's no longer a faux pas, sixty years old or not, it's just plain fucking rude. Ten seconds. You've got to be fucking joking, she HAS to turn away any second, it's now beyond rude, it's personal. Twenty seconds. I'm now trying not to laugh, this is totally bizarre, the woman will not look away. Twenty five seconds. She hasn't even blinked. She is quite obviously dead; my first attempt to stare someone out since Upper School and I have lost on a technicality, my opponent died during the match. Thirty seconds plus. I turn back to look at my crisps, a defeated, no, broken man; my eyes burning and my mouth dry. To add insult to injury I see her in my peripheral vision as she slowly shakes her head and goes back to her bag of Malteasers. I wondered if anyone witnessed what had just taken place, hopefully there is someone who clocked the whole thing and I can laugh it off as we raise eyebrows to each other in a "what a mad bitch!" kind of way. I turn to the man on my immediate right. He is starring at me. This time I make no attempt whatsoever to engage in battle; I know when I'm outclassed, this is not the Cliffs Pavillion Theatre Southend, it's an episode of Hammer House of Horror. I do realise that because I've been on the telly every now and again for the past 10 or 12 years, occasionally people recognise me. This is thankfully not the recognition actors get who are actually famous; it's more of a vaguely quizzical "I'm sure I know that face" kind of look. Not on this occasion, these people were appalled that I had gone to see a seaside show on my own. Everyone had gone out on a nice, social evening with their families and had it been spoiled by some fucking nutter that had bought a single ticket in the middle of a row. Christ, if they had known I'd driven for 2 and a half hours in the Friday rush hour from London they'd have taken me out and given me a good kicking on the sea front.

Sent an email to Richard Herring to say I had nicked his idea of writing a daily blog to kick start the writing process (I'm sure the idea is not original to him but I decided to do it after reading his blog). I don't know him but got a very pleasant email back saying good luck with it etc. Strange things can happen when you email someone you don't know. A few months ago I was listening to my ipod on "shuffle" where it mixes up the order of your favourite songs. Two songs it played back to back were 'To Sir With Love' (Lulu) and 'Born Free' (Matt Monro). I knew Born Free was written by Don Black but had a suspicion that 'To Sir With Love' was as well. When I got home I 'googled' Don Black and his web site came up. Not only had he wrote the lyrics to both of those songs but also to many others on my play list. I decided to send him an email; just saying how much I enjoyed his songs etc. It's weird, I would have never have done something like that a few years ago, in fact I would have choked with embarrassment at the thought of it. Anyway, cut a long story short I got a very nice reply saying thanks then about a week later I got another email from him asking me to ring him. Now I've been asked to write a musical with Don Black. Go on, email someone you don't know... you never know what could happen.