A couple of days ago via an agent I work with I got a late-notice request from a client looking for entertainment for a golf club season's opening dinner, which was to take place tonight. They wanted a mime, I was told. Had I ever done any mime?
That's one of those questions you answer very carefully.
Yes, I told them, but I'm not actually a mime.
Never mind, came the reply. Do what you can.
It was to be a strolling gig, interacting with guests during the cocktail hour before dinner.
Trying to get an idea of what they wanted, I asked if they had a theme, or even if they knew what kind of character they wanted. 'You decide,' they said.
So I decided on a cross between a Tim Burton character and Mr Bean. It won't become a regular part of my repertoire but for a one-off event, it worked. A chance to be delightfully, innocently, inadvertently creepy. And you'd be surprised how many older women will not only happily let their husbands trail behind as a ghoulish figure in a frock coat offers his arm and leads them away, but will flirt like Armageddon is scheduled for the following morning.