The room was well lit with plenty of other acts in attendance plus a smattering of real audience. I found myself to be topping the evening's entertainment and settled in with a pint of coke and no preconceptions.
The material flowed with the usual mix of the good and the very much in development. It was a warm crowd though and we urged each other on when things got rocky. The bit about masturbating someone's nose will probably stay with me forever - no matter how much I try to expunge it.
Come 10pm I was up and delivering Meal Deal with caffeine-assisted vigour and the clubbing chat that preceded West End revealed three clubs that had never come up before (Jesters, Valentinos and Manhatten I salute you). I'm building quite a picture of the UK's least desirable night spots. I suspect it could be the basis for a Radio 4 endorsed travel log in a similar vein to that book about traversing the UK open mic scene with a ukelele.
Did I do it in 8 minutes? Did I heck. 10 minutes and 3 seconds. Time for some serious editing on the chat. That or write a song that lasts 1:30.