Lewis Schaffer on stage this week, before losing his trousers
London-based American comedian Lewis Schaffer is performing eight weekly shows at the Leicester Square Theatre, starting soon. You heard it here first.
Last night, we exchanged text messages…
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When is your first Leicester Square show?
3rd March
What time?
Sunday 6pm £10.
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He then texted that he was in a well-known seaside town to play a gig. I will call it Boringtown. I texted back: Condolences. He texted back: Been here before. Seems nice.
Later last night, I was travelling in my car with my eternally-un-named friend (hereinafter referred-to as my EUF). I got another text from Lewis and this exchange ensued:
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– I wrote that last text before my bag and useful black coat were stolen during the show. So now don’t have a good impression of Boringtown.
– In car. John is driving. EUF here. John says “Email me more about theft.” He hasn’t got a blog for tomorrow. It’s all Him Him Him isn’t it? – EUF says v. sorry to hear about coat. It’s cold. And bag. Hope no money was in it this time.
– I don’t want him to blog about that. I’m always losing things. Or having them taken from me. There’s a few Yiddish words for me. I’m the guy who spills the soup on you and I’m the one who gets the soup spilled on him. I had a feeling it wasn’t safe to leave it there.
It’s the jokes that I’ll miss. The paper bits with the funny things I said that I left in the bag. Who’s going to use them? I mean, if they can get laughs out of my joke scratchings then they’re funnier than I am.
– John says your txt msgs would make a good blog. I say you poor little Yiddish soupy sosage.
– Schmeil or schmozzel. I’ll have to look it up in Leo Rosten’s Joy of Yiddish. One of those words or both. I’m both. I wish I only spilled. My show at the Art Centre was good under difficult circumstances – there was an audience there (joke).
– John says your jokes are so specific to you that no-one else can tell them. He laughed out loud and said half your act is you saying the words ‘Lewis Schaffer’ – that is difficult to steal.
– It’s not that the jokes are good or that I would have used them. It is now I’ll imagine those lost jokes that I’ve forgotten are the funniest jokes I’ve thought up.
– John asks – You’re doing jokes now?
– I have jokes now. I don’t tell them in the right order or when I should, but I have jokes.
– John says Oh yes – The Holocaust ones.
– Now I have a bad view of Boringtown. Please don’t mention the town.
– John says you told him not to blog these texts.
– I lost my clothes. Luckily they didn’t think much of my leather jacket or I’d be going home dressed like a drunk stockbroker after a night out boozing.
– Are you still dressed in your stage gear? John asks have they taken your trousers? If so, comedy gold. EUF says are you on your journey home?
– They took my beloved Kenneth Cole stretchy trousers. I’m on the train. Please don’t say the name of the town. Me bad in not taking my belongings and putting them in a pile on stage with me.
– Sorry. Would hate to lose some fav clothes like that.
– And my beloved Kenneth Cole stretchy black jacket. And my beloved black and white checked shirt. By Kenneth Cole.
– John says have we agreed he can blog these texts minus Boringtown?
– And my beloved black casual shoes by Kenneth Cole, the American clothing designer.
– No more beloved clothes. I don’t know K Cole.
– Beloved Kenneth Cole.
– John says are you naked? If so, send pic immediately.
– They left my ratty suit carrier bag. Why am I such a plonker?
– I say you aren’t. John says you are. Have you still got phone charger? We are arriving at my flat now so there will be a pause.
– Luckily I hid that behind the portable heater in the dressing room. I am a plonker. I don’t think that’s a Yiddish word.
– It’s John here again now. So can I blog, provided I don’t mention Boringtown?
– I’m not sure you posting my mishaps is helping me in the comedy business. I’m not sure still makes other comics happy to read of my failures. I’m not a threat to them. Yes, you can blog this, but only because I sense your desperation to keep this daily blogging going. I admire your commitment. I could only do 3 months, if that.
– Do you want an IKEA double bed settee, lightweight base with mattress? Was EUF’s sister-in-law’s. Pix to follow. We just brought it back to Greenwich. IKEA beds longer than UK ones.
– Can use bed.
– Good.
– Actually, can’t. Sorry. No room.
– Pity.
– That’s 3 thefts in 5 months.
– 3 thefts in 5 months? You are being targeted by rogue members of the Elders of Zion… Maybe the Middle Aged of Zion.
– First the money in Edinburgh. Then my iPhone 4S in November. Now this. I should stress that the show was amazing. No-one walked out.
– My EUF says this means none of the audience stole your things. She trained as a sleuth by watching Monk on TV.
– I’ve had a run of good shows.
– Don’t worry. Things will get worse. I presume tonight was part of your Free Until Famous tour of Arts Centres?
– Yes. Packed. 150.
– Your Leicester Square Theatre gigs are eight Sundays in a row?
– Yes. Not announced yet. You can announce them in your blog. But they are paid dates. How can I justify it?
– The audience will justify it by arriving. When are you back in South London?
– I’m in New Cross now.
– Do you want food?
– Where? It is 1.30am. This is England.
– I have a car. We can find.
– Okay. Come. I can change.
– At your age, you cannot change. My EUF is starving. We will come round to your place.
– Okay. Hurry. Am fading fast. No. Don’t come. My door keys were in coat. Feeling flu-ish. Have to wake early to take son to football. His birthday. Sorry John. Ask for EUF’s forgiveness.
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