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RAMBLE ON
My fictionalised life as a Travel and Adventure Blogger.

Previous episodes:
#1 - Introducing My New Travel Blog
#2 - Making a Deal With the Devil
#3 - Getting Arrested, For Resisting Arrest
#4 - Love, Sex, and Guru Powers

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Falling Flat Like a Joke

Every year cities around the world hold some wonderful festivals. All of them such fodder for writing material for a travel blogger. My must see list has so many names on it. But the festivals I am eager to get to the most are the comedy festivals, especially the biggest ones on the calendar. Of course top of the list would be Edinburgh, then Montreal, and lastly Melbourne.

I have been scrimping and saving, putting together a little war chest to travel far and wide, to take in as many of these cultural events as possible. Last I checked my funds were sitting somewhere around the three hundred dollar mark. That's right, three hundred. Almost enough to see a few events, once I get to those festivals. And how was I supposed to get to them? Two of them are on the other side of the world. Leaving just the one that didn't require an airline ticket. Melbourne.

Just down the road from Bygone, my home town. Okay it was a very long road. Eight hundred kilometres. It's Australia, what did you expect? Besides I had left Bygone some months back in search of my travel blogging credentials. Apparently they're in the mail.

The Melbourne Comedy Festival is a big one. That will surely provide opportunity to see some of the world's finest comedians doing their stuff. Altogether in one big city, finally no travel costs. All I had to do was get to Melbourne.

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Like a Lightning Bolt

I had been travelling the beaches of central New South Wales when the idea struck me, like a surfboard to the back of the head. I remember it clearly, after I came too that is. I counted stars, until they faded away, and dancing fairies appeared in their place. "Go to Melbourne," they said. I looked up with a big doped up smile on my face. A deep voice spoke, sounding nothing like a fairy.

"You alright mate? You look a little out of it." The paramedic was administering some pain relieving gas. Seems I really was hit by a surfboard. The fairies had gone now, but I remembered their message – go to Melbourne.

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Melbourne Calling

I got to Melbourne just in time to realise why I never wanted to come here before my last surfing safari – the place is very expensive. My three hundred dollars barely got me into a backpackers for the length of the Festival. Which means eating may become a problem. And how was I supposed to buy a ticket for these world class comedians? This experience was crashing quicker than my last attempt at riding one of those mechanical bulls. Bull 1, Me 0.

I wandered the streets of central Melbourne on my first night in town. Crowds of people thronged outside multiple venues. Billboards with flashing lights, smiley faces plastered upon them, accosted me from every vantage point. Eighty dollars for one, sixty for another. I found a few for under twenty. Were they the bargain basement comedians? It was more affordable, but I was down to my last twenty, and I had an empty belly and not much of a sense of humour left to spare.

I eventually found a back alley venue that was free to enter. I walked down the graffiti covered alleyway and entered through a door that screamed alternate reality though this way. Dark, gloomy, and decidedly sleazy looking, it was an enticing offer for a worn out traveller with no money and in need of a good laugh.

Except there were no good laughs in here. This was an open mic event. Those get up and have a go nights. No wonder it was free. And then they'll probably charge me a twenty just for a drink. Back to square one, and still nothing funny had happened. So what would you do?

Well what I did was continue into the venue, into a a room that defied explanation. And that was because it was so bloody dark in there, like trying to see through mud. How do you explain darkness? I tried to slink my way through an unseen crowd, wary of bumping into silhouettes in the night. I needn't have bothered, as there actually wasn't much of a crowd there. So dim the lights and no one will know.

I sat at a table, and looked up at the stage. My eyes adjusted to a light level known only to miners, and burrowing creatures. And possibly comedians. If I ever see one I'll be sure to ask them.

On stage was a large woman, dressed all in black. Great, like it wasn't already difficult to see her. She said she was a clairvoyant. So what was she doing at a comedy show, and performing?

"I can see your future," she said, to no one in particular.

"I hope you're not in it," someone yelled from the audience. He may have been the audience. And me of course.

"The future is easy to predict," she continued, sounding like she spoke through her nose more than her mouth. The monotony in her voice was anything but funny. Perhaps she was building up to something.

She pointed to the heckler. She should be proud, not all comedians get their own heckler. Some have to work for years before they show up, like a symbiotic life form breathing new life into their worn out material. Although I think her material actually needed CPR.

"You're going to die at the end of your life." Pause, silence. Was that the punch line? No kidding Madame Einstein. Being hit in the head by a surfboard was funnier than that. In fact she made me want to hit myself over the head once more.

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A Stand-up Nightmare

The heckler turned to me and said I should get up there and have a go. First of all, how did he even see me in there? Must have been a Miner. Or a comedian. And secondly, what do I know about being funny? I'm a travel blogger not a comedian. And lastly, I wasn't looking to be heckled.

After much prodding and urging on the heckler's part, I climbed up on stage and stood at the mic. I looked out at a dark room. There was a hidden heckler out there someone, lurking like a shark ready to pounce. I had better give him something half decent to work with.

"I'm a clairvoyant comedian," I began, ad-libbing my way into comedy oblivion. "Except my powers work in reverse." I paused, a little bit for dramatic effect. But mostly because I had no idea where I was going with this.

"I can't see your future. No one can." I looked out at the audience. I was trying to see the previous clairvoyant, to make eye contact. Instead all I did was lock eyes with a black void. And silence. At least I wasn't being heckled. Yet.

"But I can see your past! Clear as day." A muffled laugh rose from the last known location of the heckler. Perhaps this audience was easier to please than I had anticipated.

"You were born once, at the beginning of your life." I pointed in the direction of the heckler, mimicking the previous comedian. I was beginning to flounder, watching the waves get bigger and come in quicker. I had to think of something funny to say.

"I remember hearing Steve Wright say, 'I intend to live forever. So far so good.'" The heckler howled out in laughter, unconcerned by my comedic plagiarism. Maybe I could make a living out of quoting other comedians. Let them do all the heavy lifting.

"The internet once told me that 'Life is God's joke on us. It's our mission to figure out the punchline.'" More screams and howls, what a great audience. Unfortunately though I had run out of quotes. I should have come prepared. I stood there silently, trying to force random internet factoids into my head. Funny things others have said that I could use now, and quickly. The silence grew longer and deeper. Oh no, were my glory days now behind me? Had I peaked too early?

I started to grow nostalgic for those early career highs. All gone too quickly. I tried one more, "I keep getting nostalgic for the times when I never used to be nostalgic."

I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Give it up son. You haven't got what it takes." Well at least this heckler had a caring and compassionate side. "Go grab yourself a drink at the bar, they're half price for performers."

Great, at least now I will be able to afford two of them. I'll go commiserate with the clairvoyant. I wonder if she saw that coming?

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Images sourced from Unsplash.com

Thank you for taking the time to read this. If you liked it then please like, comment, and follow.

@naquoya

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Links to earlier works

- Fiction
My Fiction Writing Collection
Writing Myself Out of Existence
When the Levee Breaks
Reality Fading
Lessons Learned From a Dying Man - includes audio version.

Book Reviews
1Q84 - Haruki Murakami
Soon - Lois Murphy
Altered Carbon - Richard Morgan
The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo - Stieg Larrson
Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep - Philip K. Dick
American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Fight Club - Chuck Palahniuk
Crooked God Machine - Autumn Christian

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