"Liverpool Street Station. 6pm. There's a man staring at a woman who's staring at nothing tapping music into her knee. Her face looks like a smudged painting and I'm counting all the drips falling from her coat. See the thing is, you're not actually gay. Which is a complete travesty to the gay community and I speak on behalf of all of us when I say you are wasted on heterosexuals. So I don't say anything. I keep it all in little jars like failed science experiments." Through surreal poetic imagery this short monologue paints the hidden heartache of a city boy weaving through the grit and wonder of London's underground as he faces news about his unreturned love.| 17 Jan 15 | Rich Mix Outer London, Greater London Performance Details => Venue archive |
