Sure that’s fucking ridiculous. You’d need 2hours and 3 of me to get through that. And the fucker wants commission.

I try to be as polite as I can to the client explaining to her that it won’t be possible to do much of a show, crowd control and all that, but I’ll do my very best I can. Then I’ve arrived beside the venue. I start shouting where can I park, where can I park.

She tells me. I park. I jump out of the car, half eaten banana in my mouth and glue on my nose and run up the steps to the gig which goes as well as can be expected.