I’ve already described my time as a volunteer at the International Dublin Gay Theatre Festival in detail. So the vast readership of this blog (all 23 of you)  may be a bit sick of my babbling about the gazillions of plays that I have seen over the past fortnight. 

You can rest assured that the festival is definitely over. But before I consign this event to my history I should probably describe the gala awards ceremony that was held tonight.

Now when I heard about this event I assumed it was a piss-up in a room with the various participants and volunteers who had attended and performed at the festival. That sounded like an entertaining evening. However I later heard that this, in fact, was a proper awards ceremony with an MC, nominees, interval acts and musical numbers. On a stage. With microphones. Including the possibility of tearful acceptance speeches and shady, diva like behaviour from the unsuccessful nominees.

I was planning on skipping it – the combination of Sunday night and a suit and tie was distinctly unappealing – I had work in the morning and wearing a tie on a warm summer evening sounded hellish. I was told however ‘Oh don’t be daft – you can wear what you like.’ So I put on my trainers and headed to the Teacher’s Club for 7.30 yesterday evening.

The event started at eight.

As I was early and because none of my buddies from the festival had arrived yet I slunk over to the back row of the audience and sat and waited for it to begin.

When it began I glanced to my right to see the some of the ‘5 Guys Chillin’ ‘ – the London play about the druggy boys. They were fully clothed. They looked quite friendly.

I glanced over my left shoulder. I didn’t recognise him at first – due to his placid looking face and the fact that he also was clothed – but it was the star of ‘Sex Maniac: Anarchist Theatre for the Mentally Unhinged’.

The show began – it was funny and entertaining.

What kind of fuckery is this though? Sex Maniac guy was undressing beside me? Is he going on stage to perform? Is he simply too hot? Thankfully he didn’t remove his smalls – that would have been a little too much for my confused mind.

He was taking notes, jotting down some phrases – which I couldn’t make out.

He put his clothes back on.

The ceremony continued.

Suddenly the clothes were coming off again, and he was kneeling on his chair and making facial grimaces. As he was in the back row this performance was not for public consumption. Why he was doing it I had no idea. But there was a vacant look in his eyes. Perhaps he was in character. Hell – perhaps his play was not a performance but his real life. I hoped not – no piece of raw liver, or doughnut or apple should be subjected to that type of behaviour offstage, outside of an artistic setting.

It was quite surreal. I moved closer to the ‘5 Guys Chillin’ ‘- their show may have been extreme but I wasn’t afraid of them as they seemed non-threatening, and clothed, and not climbing over the furniture.

At the interval I discovered some of my volunteer buddies, and I took the executive decision to move seats.

During Act 2, the Sex Maniac guy gave a performance. For some reason he was clothed. His was a passionate scene involving him and that poor unfortunate piece of raw liver. When his play won an award – oh how I clapped.

All in all a very entertaining (and quite bizarre) finale to a wonderful festival.