Larry is a quality comedian and this was an entertaining night. He's built a strong stage persona, that of a gay Glasgow funny man, carrying the spirit of Billy Connelly about him in the way his stories veer off on tangents while demonstrating a comic physicality with sharp killer lines. He's adept at accents and even does a few impressions (showing us the difference in styles between Kevin Bridges and Billy Connolly, with Kermit, Miss Piggy and Gollum also getting a look in).
He came on first to warm us up, bringing with him his interpreter for the deaf. He made some comic mileage out of her presence playing on her need to sign his material regardless of how rude it was. To a lesser comedian, it could have been hack but Larry's cheeky twinkle pulled it off (I'm signing the expression for male wanking but with my pinkie).
He then introduced his support act, Jack Campbell, an Englishman from Oxfordshire but living in Leicester, who nailed a good twenty minutes of material and interestingly had his own interpreter for the deaf.
During the interval, as we were on the end of a row in the stalls (second from the front), we had to rise frequently to allow other attendees in and out. It happened so often I began to feel like I was in a gym class where I'd forgotten to hang up my jacket. I got to wondering if it would be more cost-effective for the theatre to install alcohol taps on the seats, with different buttons on the pump for beer, cider, wine or spirits. This would allow the thirsty to use the self-service bar without the need to bother an entire row. I then considered extending this idea further by introducing commode seats, whose flush would either be silent or remain inactive during the performance. Ushers could sell expensive, mini toilet rolls to add to their roster of confection selection.
One young lady in a slinky black dress, whom I didn't mind standing up for (pinkie sign), brushed past us three times during the interval, pausing on the third occasion to offer us a personal apology. She'd realised she'd left her mother's credit card behind in the toilet (!).
Now I'm left wondering if the King's is now charging women to use the ladies and if my commode idea has legs after all. One swipe to pay, one swipe to clean...
Where was I again? Abu Dhabi...
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