I arrived plenty early and rearranged the room for optimal comedic joy. I think this proved to be a useful move. There was even time to mess around on the Steinway Grand that someone had just left lying about. Shame they hadn't left it in tune. Never mind. It still played well and suggested some things to me that were hidden in the music I was playing on it. I think it sometimes feels like a well-made instrument "knows" how it should be played and suggests it to the player. This is figurative, I don't believe instruments are animate - except pianolas, which are posessed by Satan.
The show was a bit of an odd one - a works do with a strange demographic in the room. The compere was a very likeable and pacy bundle of joy, which had a positive effect on breaking the room in. Then stuff happened, and I'm not going to review it.
I took to the stage in part two of the show. I barked some gags at them non-stop for a couple of minutes, went into my first song, kept the energy going, ended the set and felt like I'd done a reasonable job. Compared to my Edinburgh show, which comes with a lot of information, and at a different pace to the stand-up, the more familiar and densely packaged stand-up set felt like it was a magic incantation. It invigorated me as much as I used it to throw some energy into an audience.
There were only 40 people in the audience. It can be easy to work all 40 members of an audience in a well lit room as you can see what everyone is doing pretty much all the time, and they can see that you can see, so it can bring them to the front of their seats a bit...
...I took it as an opportunity to have some fun, and that was the right thing to do. It's why I got into stand-up in the first place. I really enjoyed it.
I got a parking ticket for my troubles, but I didn't even seem to mind.