As you entered you were greeted by a drunk and possibly high individual loudly requesting £2 from behind a cardboard sign. There was a table to the side of him selling art. Pictures £5. Snow globes £7. Not sure if the art was his or not.
I was the MC for the evening. The first act read a review of the venue he had found online, the review wasn't good. It could have been taken as prophesy.
A group of drunk women, scantily dressed in a variety of 'fancy' dress costumes were in residence. The back of our comedy room was essentially a corridor to the ladies toilets. We saw these women go to the toilet at least 7 times, whether they were using the toilets I don't know, I didn't check. If you don't want to disrupt the night, don't shout "sorry" at the top of your lungs to the acts on stage. Without your apology you would have been silent, which would have been super.
At the back of the room there was also a bar, which the other patrons also wanted to use despite there being a perfectly good bar in the next room.
The men's toilets smelled of a variety of illegal substances, so I was told. I heard that various dealings happened throughout the evening. Some of the acts became aware that 'shit' could go down at any moment and began to plan the fastest exit from the venue.
The man sitting at the art table became so loud and unable to stand properly that he was sent home in a taxi.
One of the acts highlighted to the audience that there was a sanitary towel outside the men's toilets. One of the acts had used sanitary towels in his set, it wasn't his. As proof of it's existence the towel was thrown towards me when I walked back on stage by the same act who pointed it out. Luckily sanitary towels have very poor aerodynamic properties.
One of the earlier acts later decided to heckle nearly everything said on stage. I told him to be quiet. He told me to "fuck off". He later apologised, saying he had had a spliff and had felt that he was genuinely adding to the night.
As a minor point, the mic stand was taped together. It didn't last the night. We had a taping session on stage.
During the second break one of the ladies in a metallic blue nurses outfit burst into the mens toilet asking if we had "seen fucking Kevin". None of us had seen fucking Kevin.
By the second last act a lady in the front row was unconscious. Her friends assured me she wasn't dead.
Despite all this the acts did really well and the audience who had paid money to watch were lovely. Sorry to end this tale on such a positive note, you probably didn't read this far for such a disappointing anti climax.