The Stand

Last night we went to the Stand for some comedy. It was strange to be in a venue that had been designed for comedy, rather than a basement decorated solely with cockroaches or a bar full of drunks shouting at one another. Strange, but nice.

I was a bit squiffy; I had four bottles of beer and maybe that greased the way for my enjoyment. Although there was two hours of performance, I didn't find myself checking my watch at any point and wondering when it would be over. Ah, delicious booze, the removal man for all ennui.

The first act was a little up and down, as was the second; they didn't provoke lots of laughter and some of their stuff (Chinese accents, Sean Bean impressions) felt a bit hackneyed. The third guy was great though: lovely bits of misdirection (takes a pack of cards from his pocket, "This is a perfectly ordinary pack of cards..." and then puts the cards away again) and the closer was 40 minutes of filth - all good stuff.

Walking back through Edinburgh, we were shocked to see how few drunks there were. 11 o'clock at night and hardly a person to be seen, rather than the massed battle we would have expected. The bars were empty, which I found very odd. Perhaps because there isn't a strict closing time like in England, all the Scottish people had got bored of drinking and given it up years ago. Yes, that fits with the Scottish reputation.

Walking down to Grassmarket, we found a mob of drunks queuing up to get into a club that would be closing an hour later. I began to suspect a Situationist prank rather than people on a night out. Back we went to bed, safe from early morning alarms.