There's Something Happening Here

Okay - let's call it a fact - run a free access venue over the Edinburgh Fringe for two weeks of the festival, and you just shouldn't ask what the venue has seen. Though who would have thunk it, when a friend of mine in Edinburgh texted me to say "I have a great anecdote to tell you" that what the venue had seen was so very X-Rated.

My friend, who shall remain unnamed, had been pressured into crashing a party at the venue (which shall remain unnamed, but of course by scrolling a few pages through my blog you will be able to unearth the truth. I am operating on the premise, that you, my dear reader, are slightly too lazy to undertake such a task. If not too lazy, then you will become too enraptured by the eclectic variety of posts, and tire very soon of your explorative journey through cyberspace) which I am running this Fringe.

To be fair - our venue opens in just over a week's time - and it being the Festival, will be packed with unrelated activity by a strange group of artists until then. I have no control of it now. I have no control of it now - sorry, I'm just going to repeat that one more time until I believe it- so my friend, let's call him Tom, decides to sneak up to the studio space to show off it's derelicte qualities - when low and behold, what should he see in an adjoining balcony, but a couple, snuck off in the corner where we'll probably set up one of our lighting boards, quietly humping.

Watching quiet humping must be an odd experience, especially with friends you've only recently become acquainted with at 3 in the morning, and especially in a venue where you are set to perform later on in the festival. And I suppose, to the sneaky humpers' credit (who are still, in reality, unnamed, thank goodness. It would be very hard to identify an Ass for my friend from a distance. Even if a police line up were to take place.) it was very late at night and the space is still in it's building or messy phase. But still - I can't quite describe the curious mix of amusement, disgust and anxiety that such an anecdote gives me.

Though I suppose if I were to get seriously wanky about it (excuse the pun) and point to the sexual performance anxiety of the naked bum in question, the voyeuristic pleasure/disturb of the Friend in question, and his sneaky cohorts, well, a kind of avant garde theatre has already baptized our experimental, ramshackle space. Right? Right?

No, scratch that, it's just a bare bum, it's just some startled trespassers and it's just what will soon be the free access venue for the last two weeks of the Fringe. Don't venture our way unless you're willing to be shocked.

But please, no more romantic trists in the balcony. There are bedrooms and parks all over Edinburgh for that kind of thing.