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Pritti vacant…

Technical stuff happening down the theatre, lighting being plotted and sound and image cues being punched in. Sat near the back of the auditorium for a while, watching all this taking place around me and unable to contribute constructively. This is soul destroying time. All the little bits and pieces of dialogue that you had doubts about are magnified, as the actors have to repeatedly trot through stuff while everything is set up, and with it all being totally disjointed, nothing makes sense anymore. I remember heading home last year after going to a tech and just losing complete faith in what I’d written. This time around at least I knew what to expect and what they were doing with images looked impressive. I would have stayed away but I had to go to the venue anyway for a radio/internet interview with a gal from the BBC called, I kid you not, Pritti. It might have been me under the influence of several packets of throat lozenges and Airwaves gum, but I could swear I was asked the same question repeatedly, just phrased slightly differently. I’d read a Q&A with Douglas Coupland earlier today and had his words that the most important aspect of an interview is to avoid coming across like an imbecile running around my head as I gave my imbecilic responses. I’m sure Pritti will edit me well. Grabbed a sandwich, then went back in the theatre for another hour of torture before bailing out, patting GTP on the shoulder and leaving them to it. No doubt they all carried on until a ridiculously late hour, as the technical aspects are an unwieldy bunch of beasts that need taming in a short space of time. I just wish I could have done something to help, but I’m a spare part now. Fidel told me he was still enjoying himself and I noticed he’d added some nice authentic grey patches to his barnet, just like Sully. There are, I was informed, just four seats left for the first night. Made the mistake of going back to Nat West today. And, fuck me, off they went again, telling me how much money they could save me if only I’d let them lend me some more money to increase my debt to them. “I know,” I said, “someone told me that yesterday.” “Who?” “I don’t know. I can’t remember.” “It’s just we could save you some money.” “I know, I’m not interested.” “Not interested? But we could save you some money. If we…” I walked away.

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