We know a song about that, don't we children? Very apposite in light of the recent discussion about advance warning of other performers.
You've got to just love hotels, haven't you? A left hand who doesn't even know of the existence of a right hand.
I had a 40th Birthday in a hotel, I'd spoken to the client, and agreed to set up in good time, as there was a horse racing supplier on earlier. ( I was booked 9.30 to 12.30, and ended up doing 10 to 12.30 ) I'm there ridiculously early, get the kit in, and set up in the area apportioned to me by the venue staff. Lots of minor niggles concerning this, but all sorted with a bit of give and take, no drama.
I'm speaking to the bar staff, as he'd spotted the Karaoke kit. I mention that I've set up early, cos there's another act of some sort on, but I can't remenber what. " I'll check the sheet " says he. " No, definitely nothing else on besides you". Enter one race director, stage left. Now it gets interesting. I'm set up where he was told to go, on his recce earlier in the week. I was ( allegedly ) going to be next to the bar, but that would have been physically impossible, with the best will in the world.
He needs two venue tables, but we can only conjure up one, and siting him and his projector/screen is proving problematical. Eventually, he picks a spot he likes, we move the cake in front of me, and I lend him my table until I fire up the karaoke. Nice bloke, he does his bit after I've fired up a bit of background. There's a stunning hot buffet, and I'm starving, having had no tea. Do I get offered some? No.
Time arrives for my set, much kit and furniture is moved again, and off I go. Straight into Karaoke which looks set to dominate the night. Whoopee. Then we have a game of pass the parcel, but with a difference. Two batons ( ie parcels ) go round, and if you're holding it when the music stops, you have to put on an article of clothing from the bags in the centre of the circle. As you may have guessed, most of these items have been selected for maximum comic effect, skimpy underwear, wigs, hats, skirts, tutus and the like. Because we have so many items in the bags, this goes on until just about everyone looks silly. Once we've emptied the bags, I have to get them to parade in front of me, so that I may judge the winner. There's now a conga line dressed up in the most outrageous things imaginable, and I give the prize to a gentleman wearing a very old fashioned " foundation garment " ( younger readers will probably need Google here ) a feather boa, hat and mask. Unbelievable fun.
So, by now my time has shrunk even further, and the karaoke effectively dies an honourable death, ( though it makes a brief resurrection near the end, until it's declared extinct due to the batteries dying in the radio mics. And due to the DJ muting the mic channels on the mixer. Guest start to drift away at a steady rate, and come finish time I have two adults and a child left. After I switch off, a handful of smokers reappear, but I'm already packing up.
It's not a great load in/out but I get it in the van and head home for bed. I still haven't shaken off this dreaded lurgy that's going round, and the voice isn't great this morning. Still, I've got seven days to prepare for a trip into deepest Lincolnshire for another karaoke. Lucky me.