As a comic-obsessed teenager, I used to make regular pilgrimages from my home town of Goole in East Yorkshire to Sheffield. The South Yorkshire capital had an excellent comic shop and Goole did not, so it was a happy trip with happy memories.
Apart from the time I got caught bunking off school on my birthday and I got put on report. That was less good.
I haven't been back to Sheffield for 30 years so a recent trip was an eye opener. The main two things that struck me were as follows:
I) The streets are filled with marauding gangs of unemployed male strippers, desperate to do a dance for you. One of the poor sods was so desperate that he offered to take all his clothes off to a Kajagoogoo song of my choosing just for a bite of my sandwich.
II) The hotel I stayed at had a large events room at the back and caped keyboard wizard Rick Wakeman and Tory-loving racist comedian Jim Davison were two of the turns on offer, with a four-course lunch and a chance for photos.
I) The streets are filled with marauding gangs of unemployed male strippers, desperate to do a dance for you. One of the poor sods was so desperate that he offered to take all his clothes off to a Kajagoogoo song of my choosing just for a bite of my sandwich.
II) The hotel I stayed at had a large events room at the back and caped keyboard wizard Rick Wakeman and Tory-loving racist comedian Jim Davison were two of the turns on offer, with a four-course lunch and a chance for photos.
One of those things is actually true.
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