B r i g h t o n   X - M a s s

I got given a gig in Brighton by a London based agency who had seen me work on Carnerby street.
I was living in a squat just off baker street and it contained all the romantic masochism my young heart could handle.
I lived in a bare room on a bare mattress, inside an army surplus sleeping bag with arms that allowed me to open the cans of baked beans and cartons of milk that I lined next to my bed for survival
I would wake, check the window for drizzle, fumble with a can opener, drink the bake beans from the can, wash them down with milk and go back to sleep so an offer of work around x-mas was a comparative windfall .
I was transported out to Brighton with some other performers who were booked by the same agency and we went into a small rented hall to entertain a group of 70 or so office workers, whose sad function it was to drink as much alcohol as was freely provided for them and then, using the freedom it gave them, try to deposit their seed or gain some forlorn pleasure from simulating meaningful relationships in the pursuit of genitalic friction. Woman with flushed defiant pride in their perceived availability staring with glazed sexual aggression at men who leaned over them manfully trying to finish sentences that some deep recess told them was mandatory in the leg opening protocol passed from father to son or locker room to locker room.Everyone was completely legless and this one night a year was a highlight of their social calendar
It takes scenes of cumulative sadness on this scale to allow me even a chance of comparative self esteem.
I tottered about dancing on my stilts, always careful to keep moving so as to avoid any real engagement, watching with a cruel superior detachment as the x-mas party descended into hell.After my contractual obligations were over I made a point of obtaining as much alcohol as I could carry and on the trip back to London I quaffed liberally and without mercy until I was dropped off outside my squat, check in hand, bottles in pocket and a clinging desperate need to obliterate the whirling darkness within.I succeeded. As I’m sure did the party-goers on whom I projected my self pity.