Braveheart

Thursday
10 a.m.
After several hours of flyering yesterday with 30 pounds of flyers in my backpack (not an exaggeration), we only had a dozen people in the audience. I’m feeling pretty beat up but I have to get back out there and pass them out again today.

11:30 a.m.
Did I mention I'm covered in mosquito bites? I don't even know how I could possibly get so many on my butt – I’ve been wearing jeans every day. Did they bite through them or did they somehow get into them? Ewww!

2 p.m.
It’s raining and I’m covered in mosquito bites and a streaky fake tan. There is no glamour here. Maybe that’s a good thing. The Royal Mile is d-e-a-d.

6:40 p.m.
I found out that The Scotsman is coming to review the show. Great – no time to recruit friends into the audience; it would take them too long to get here.

9:30 p.m.
I was feeling confident by the time it was curtains up and we had a good crowd. The beginning of the show went fine. There were some technical difficulties (bad sound cues, etc.) and then halfway through the show, we lost the crowd. I don't know what happened and worse, people said I looked nervous. I think it's because I talk fast and use my hands.

11 p.m.
I’m feeling quite despondent and have suddenly realized why so many performers use drugs… anything to get your mind of an impending bad review. I’m just going to bed instead.

Friday
2 a.m.
Can’t sleep. I hope we don’t get listed as a “Fringe Turkey”, a one-star show that has its own section of The Scotsman’s web site. Although I’m sure over the years plenty of great performers have been Turkeys, but it’s a small comfort.

8 a.m.
I bought The Scotsman. No review. Maybe they won’t print it at all.

10 a.m.
There are two flyerers for every person out this morning.

Noon
There are more people out now. The Friday crowd is kicking in. I ran into some friends from London on the Mile. We agreed to see each other’s shows, only to realize they are on at the same time.

1 p.m.
I wandered into Plaisir du Chocolat for obvious reasons. I thought I’d get some lunch, but they only have dessert so I had a piece of chocolate mousse cake. Things could be worse. I really want a cheese sandwich though.

2 p.m.
I need a cheese sandwich like now. My back is killing me. Is it irresponsible to get a back massage when your show is losing money?

3 p.m.
I really must get online and check The Scotsman for an online review.

6 p.m.
I got my cheese sandwich, which also had unwanted green onions and mayo, but let’s be realistic – this is the U.K. so there’s going to be mayo. I’m sitting in the theatre’s bar because there is nowhere else to sit. I rarely drink before shows but today red wine is needed for my aching back. It’s cheaper than a back massage.

6:30 p.m.
Bobby came rushing into our tiny greenroom which is not only the size of a supply cabinet, I think it actually was at one point a supply cabinet. He had a printout of our review. They said the performances were “adequate”. It could be worse.

7 p.m.
I can’t believe it – it hasn’t rained all day.

9:15 p.m.
We pulled it together and had a great show after last night’s disaster. Things are looking up.

10 p.m.
It’s raining.