This week was pretty busy for me and that all began on Tuesday when I was laid up feeing sorry for myself. Hannah – who’s in charge of the publicity for the book – called me with a request for me to be on the Trisha show. After some gentle persuasion on her part I reluctantly agreed. My hesitation was nothing to do with Trisha, I’d done her radio show a few weeks ago and she was lovely. My reluctance was due to the nature of the show. I’m very non-confrontational and that seems to be polar opposite of what the show is about, not to mention I had no intention of airing my dirty laundry on daytime TV.
Hannah’s assurance that it was a special show on the sex industry and would be great publicity for the book meant I was booked to film the show the following night. As soon as I confirmed, my phone started ringing, non-stop. The first few calls were about the book, my experience, my views etc.. Then came the calls about the time and transport. Then health and safety and security calls. It started with a very detailed health and safety questionnaire. Then it all took a strange twist with some questions I certainly hadn’t been asked before.
“Am I, or have I ever been addicted to drugs?”
“Do I have or are there any signs of mental illness in my family?”
“Am I or have I ever contemplated suicide?”
Needless to say, I answered ‘umm, No’ to all the above. But she carried on, criminal convictions, any regular contact with child services amongst others. By the end of the long and arduous ‘risk assessment’ I was left with two thoughts 1. What kind of people do they get on this show. 2. Even if I was a drug addicted criminal with two children in child protection, serious mental problems and constantly contemplating suicide surely I could just answer ‘no’ to all of said questions and be on the show tomorrow!
Before I had time to go much further with that train of thought my phone rang again. This time they were asking me to bring three forms of ID and supply two references they can call when I arrive. Hmm, this is more hassle than it’s worth, but oh, what’s that, my phone ringing again! “Hi Ellouise, what do you look like?” I was stumped. She reeled off from her list, height, build, hair colour, eye colour and what will I be wearing on the show. Are they kidding me, I really started to think this was some kind of prank. But oh, no, it was just the Trisha show. The conversation ended with them asking if they could call me back between ten and eleven for a few more detail. A FEW MORE DETAILS!! They already know more about me than I do.
The next day, and several phone calls later, I got in the cab for the studios. They managed to call me twice in the cab to confirm that I was actually in the cab. But then again I am a drug addicted criminal that’s mentally ill and contemplating suicide. I finally got there and was put in a room and asked to sign contracts, one being not to talk or write in the press anything to do with my time on the Trisha show. So the story ends here. But how I wish I could tell you the rest!! All I will say is Trisha was lovely and I spent several hours in an empty room with the voices in my head as my only company thinking of an adequate revenge for Hannah!
But my week improved. I had tickets to Jill Scott on Friday night at the Brixton academy. I’ve been to a few gigs at the Brixton Academy and have always stood downstairs in the stalls - packed and overheated but you feel like you’re right in there, a part of it. This time, I had tickets in the circle - the seated gallery. As it was unreserved seating I was there relatively early and even though there was already an impressively huge crowd, managed to get good seats three rows from the front.
. The circle is disappointing. Looking down you have a great view of the stage but it’s only marginally better that watching it on TV. There was no electricity or atmosphere and as you could hear everyone downstairs in the moment, I felt like I wasn’t a part of it all. Half way through, I decided the seating area wasn’t for me and snuck in down stairs. The heat hit me, the atmosphere was electric and the bass vibrated in my chest – I remembered what concerts are supposed to be about. From here on she could do no wrong. After the slow jams and humorous vignettes on relationships she pumped things up with some of her classics and the five thousand-strong crowd went wild.
A fantastic end to the week. Next week’s looking pretty good too. I’m heading to France to see my mum for the first time in months, so other than having to deal with ryanair (the bane of my existence) a great week to come!