What could be better than an evening of vaguely burlesque comedy in a giant tent? Quite a lot, actually.
Kate and Rick have been raving about Andrew Maxwell's Fullmooners - a travelling event that only occurs on a full moon in eccentric locations. I've seen Andrew Maxwell, and he's brilliant. I've seen his assistant, Sir Tim, doing a great Edinburgh show about Morris Dancing across England. It all sounded rar.
Of course, I forgot, I don't do off-tube. Getting to Victoria Park required a tube, a train, a bus, and walking down a street of angry straight men kicking things (did they lose a sporty-woo?). By which time I was not in the mood for Funny.
That said, the tent was lovely. As was Andrew Maxwell and Sir Tim. There were only two problems - the acts and the audience. According to the website, an average Fullmooners gig includes Simon Pegg, or Russell Brand, or Marjorie Dawes. Or at least someone funny. But not this night. "Well, it is a long way for anyone good to come," sighed Kate. Even Andrew Maxwell was recycling material from his Edinburgh show, which considering this was an audience of groupies, seemed lazy.
Which brings me on to the audience. I went off "I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue" slightly when I realised the audience were even more middle-aged, middle-class and ghastly than I am. This was worse. This was a tent full of Comedy Is My Life-rs. If you like it so much, why not just sit back and enjoy it rather than constantly taking photos with the flash on?
As one of the comics pointed out, having been blinded for the twelth time, "Have you Facebooked that? Am I tagged? Will people believe you were here now? Go on - take another!"
And, if they weren't taking photos, they were texting. ZOMG and LOL, most probably. Maybe even a ROFL. Mind you, thank god they were, cos when the power went, the only light was all those twinkling little screens, no doubt each one reading "Power cut!!! omg!!! Sacry!!!!xxx"
It was a room full of people desperately telling each other and all their friends they were having a good time.
Mind you, Fullmooners deserves to be the best thing ever. After all, it has Andrew Maxwell and Sir Tim, who are brilliant - what's not to love about an Old Etonian drinking beer through a bugle whilst playing The Last Post? (mind you, that was charming on stage, but describing it makes it sound like a rugby club turn).
I just wish it had been more of them, and they hadn't bothered with anyone else.