Friday 3rd December

Tonight Alex and I decide to head into town to check out a comedy club run by a friend of her sister's. It's not an easy decision - it's absolutely freezing out and by the time work's done I'd be perfectly happy to spend an evening indoors. Alex convinces me to give it a shot though and we meet up for a quick drink in the Tollgate on the way to the tube.

The club itself is in Covent Garden, downstairs at a building called the African Centre. It's not the sort of place you'd wander to if you were looking for a comedy night - hence they have a guy outside yelling "comedy!" from seven o'clock onwards - and it's not exactly busy when we head in, but it all seems nice and the price on the door is right (with the appropriate "mates" discount). There are pillars all the way up the middle of the room so we take a seat on the front row with our bottle of wine - usually a big no-no for people at comedy clubs (and indeed plenty of the sparse audience decide to hang back in a rather ridiculous way) but it seems stupid to me to obstruct my view in fear of being spoken to by another human being.

There are three acts on tonight. The first, Carly Smallman, is very likeable and sings a few songs ranging from the quite cute to the really rather dirty, and while I initially worry that her stuff is a bit broad for my tastes she is in fact so likeable that it is very hard not to chuckle along with her. The second booked act fails to turn up, meaning that Pete Dobbing is drafted in from another club round the corner at the latest of notice - he's visibly out of breath when he takes the stage. He's very funny too.

Finally the headliner, Paul Foot, is introduced - and launches into an insane skit based on a murder mystery ("I intend to prove that everyone here had motive and means to murder this man" etc) involving berating members of the audience and muttering to himself. It's brilliant and goes on for a full half hour during which I don't think anyone completely stopped laughing. It seems completely improvised (even if it might not be) and the moments when he briefly breaks character are brilliant.

We leave at around 11pm having thoroughly enjoyed ourselves - and head back north looking for another drink or two. We stop in Camden Town but find nowhere open and get back on the bus again- this time getting off at the ever-reliable Big Red. There's a band on and the place is full, but we somehow find a perching space and chatter away until well after 1am.