The dawn is lovely and early at this time of year. I suddenly appreciate the way they fiddle with the days over here in winter and give us all those hours of darkness in the evening. Not that I’m working farmer’s hours – it’s summer. But I’m up pretty darn early most of the time.

My instinct that I shouldn’t have come up here has been compounded, this sharp morning, by the fact that my manager, who I took the time to acquit in advance, has moved me out of his area. It’s an odd business, but I’m sure the fact that I’ve not enjoyed working under him has been part of it. He found out I was an actor this morning and dropped it into conversation on the floor as if he’d discovered that I train kids for the mafia. Perhaps he found my blog. I wouldn’t describe what I’m doing as being discreet here, and the onus of the daily write up is problematic when I’m in gainful employment for people who are, let’s be honest, deeply concerned about public image and portrayal. This is a pretty closed loop, or at least I think of it as such. But people do get hold of it outside of my little pile of friends. I should be aware of that, but then how will it affect the thing that I’ve almost pointedly made my USP here – that I’m honest about the rough as well as the smooth.? Who knows. It’s an important concern for me. Years ago I wrote a blog about a tour I was on where it was brilliantly chaotic. It was in a similar tone to the one I take here when I romp through various catastrophies for your reading pleasure. I’m very happy to be bald about things that are difficult, unpleasant or strange. But it almost got me into trouble when the producer found it. We are friends again now, thankfully, but the blog almost caused problems. My first year at Sprite, Liam the producer was warned that I might put something negative online. He spoke to me about it, and it went straight through me. I think of this as a little thing read by a few pleasant people and I never seek to be negative as it’s not my way. But perhaps it reaches further and does more damage than I think. Hospitality is a dangerous business for someone who speaks his mind. And it’s not my business. I know that more and more clearly as each day passes.

On the same day it appears my photo has found its way into The Stage as an illustration on an article about immersive theatre. So there’s fate reminding me what I should and shouldn’t be doing. It was taken a couple of years ago near the Bank of England. The convergence of these two events rings loudly to me, being “moved” and that photo coming out. When I say “moved” it’s because the decision was made late in the evening and thankfully the people around me are fond enough of me to appreciate I’m in Southport now, that I came here to make money, and that it’s a reasonably arbitrary decision. They’re pretty sure they’ll find something for me elsewhere on site, which is a kindness.

But this is it for hospitality. There’s the universe showing me eating in a black suit as an actor as part of a game. That’s got to be closer to whoever I seek to be than watching other people eat, in the same black suit, while they enjoy a very different sort of game.


I struggled to write this, because these kind of things make one feel compromised. I’m a mixture of upset, annoyed and resigned, and I’m heading in now to see what’s what. But yeah. I should be acting. That’s a very clear message from the universe.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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