A woman stands defiant in a crowded (and seated) venue.
At the top of her lungs she demands free money.
I sit in the back row.
I gulp and wince and wonder what I never did.
I'm writing a new show. It's called NO STANDING. NO DANCING.
This story is a call to arms.
It's a show about the gentle art of cowardice, tiny acts of fuck-you-mate and why Patti Smith is just the absolute boss of it all.
NO STANDING. NO DANCING. (the-first-outing)
Tuesday Feb 6.
Plus they'll be some music and other arty stuff.
Tix on sale real soon.