Loving the Loos at Leestock

Portaloos. Ports for pooing in are a great idea, especially when they are located right next to the Comedy Tent at the Leestock festival. The sensation provided by massaging the disinfecting gel into my sunburnt hands is almost quite enjoyable, and I feel like staying a little longer.

The Portaloo’s Cabin is really quite well fitted out. There’s a mirror on the door, so I feel it’s only right to indulge in a little bit of a lot of self-love. It’s as well that it’s the right thing to do, because I have no choice about it. I’m hovering above the loo seat – there’s no way I’m sitting on someone else’s bum cells – and the space is so confined that, as my torso tips forward, I find I’m practically kissing my own reflection. This would be okay, except that it’s one of those magnifying mirrors, and I’m instantly enlarged …

There’s a great big thick black hair adorning a massive mole on the middle bulge of what I now realise is a triple chin. It’s no good. I’m about to witness the one and only Tom Caruth do his Australian Chewbacca impersonation (Yes, I’ve seen it before – several times – but I’m not a stalker!) and I just can’t go through with it – not in the company of this ginormous black hair!

I tug and tug – and tug and tug some more – but, unlike in the Magic Turnip story, there’s no mouse to help out, and  it’s not going anywhere. It’s well and truly embedded into my middle-chin mole and what’s more, I’ve now stretched it. There’s nothing I can do. I mentally detach myself from my chin, my mole, and my hair and move on out.

The light’s a little dimmer in the shade of the tent, so I’m thinking that nobody can see the hair. But my chin jerks downwards. I realise I’ve just trodden on the hair, which now seems to be about five foot long! Focus. I must hold my head up high, painful as that might be, and focus. Focus on Tom …

And Tom is in full throttle – he’s now well into his Chewbacca impression, but I feel convinced that he must have the same car as me -an ancient Renault Espace, because it’s exactly the same guttural gurgle that my beloved car made on it’s way into the Leestock car park earlier, when it stalled, at the very moment I realised I was about to drive it into the exit. I don’t very often thank my Renault for stalling but, on this occasion – I still didn’t thank it – I thanked the Lord! Because out of the exit (my entrance) emerged a chauffeur-driven limousine, quite possibly the very vehicle which had, until a few moments ago, had the rear ends of celebrity artists on its leather upholstery. Ed Sheeran? James Blunt? Or, more likely, James Faulkner, today’s Headline Act. James Blunt. James Faulker. James …. Focus! I must refocus … Tom. Tom Caruth.

And I’m back and Tom’s back, or rather Tom’s here, here in the Comedy Tent at Leestock and he’s now telling us all about his girlfriend, about how she complains that he doesn’t understand her, but that he doesn’t even know what that means. It’s okay, Tom, I can help you out there! I know all about young women – I was one once – and experience counts for a lot. I can put things into simple step by step language that you will understand and go through it all with you, slowly. Very, very slowly. But, we’ll put that one aside for now – it can wait awhile. It can wait and mature, so to speak, because next up’s Kahn – an old hand! The mature type. Mature, like a rich-smoked strong cheddar cheese.

But, what’s this? Kahn Johnstone’s babbling on about tofu. Turns out he’s a vegan! A smoking vegan. An old smoking vegan! An ancient piece of fossilised vegetable, fantasising about burlesque-feathered lap dancers. Hah! Seems he likes a bit of pigeon pie after all! And, for some unknown random reason, the pigeon lady’s song – from my favourite musical, Mary Poppins – comes into my head (Actually, it’s been stuck there on replay for a very long time – since I looked, a few minutes ago, into the mirror that never lies!) ‘ Feed the birds, tuppence a bag. Tuppence, tuppence. Tuppence a bag.  Feel my mole, tuppence a pluck! Tuppence, tuppence. Tuppence a pluck! Listen, listen, and … give me a pluck.”

Come on, Kahn … you’re a celebrity and I’m an old bird. Please, help me out ….!

Copyright owned by Jay Cool (nickname: Chooky), May 2017

If you’d like to see Tom Caruth and Kahn Johnstone in action for yourself, please come to our forthcoming Suffolk Punch Comedy events:

First Wednesday of every month, at the Brewery Tap, in Sudbury, Suffolk. Free entry. Donations welcome for Prostate Cancer Research.

31st May, at the Ipswich Hotel. Tickets available now at: havingalaughforcharity.co.uk/index2.html

Newflash! Seems that Trump has a little ‘mole’ problem too! tinyurl.com/yaph792p Might see if I can liaise with him about his techniques for mole-hair removal! WATCH THIS SPACE!

Please also head over to the author’s family history/travel blog:

Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian

Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.

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