Walking down this road the other day…

So I go down to Dulwich to see my son, and we go out for coffee. We are walking along in some nice street, not in Dulwich but nearby, like Penge, and as we are about to go into a coffee shop I see somebody vaguely familiar coming the other way. I hesitate in the coffee shop doorway, and recognise him after a moment as Stewart Lee the comedian. I have to speak to him. He’s a comedy god. So I step out in front of him and say,

‘It’s comedy god Stewart Lee,’ just in case he’s not sure, and he stops and looks pleased and smiles a little, warily maybe, and says nothing. So I go on, ‘I love your work, Stewart Lee. Comedy gold comes pouring out of your mouth. Your catchphrases especially. I love your catchphrases.’ I turn to my son and say, ‘He’s the master of the catchphrase. The highest form of comedy in my opinion.’ My son’s looking like he wishes he was somewhere else. ‘The catchphrase. He has tons of them. All wonderful. Encapsulations of wit and relevance. Expressions that stand countless repetitions because of the skill in choosing the situations. The same phrase, different situation; a new joke without having to actually use new words.’

Stewart Lee isn’t smiling now. Just looking puzzled, but not too much puzzled. It’s not as if he has to understand what I’m saying. He’s comedy god Stewart Lee. So I say, ‘I love that one about the tree. You know the one.’ Stewart Lee is being very patient. Or maybe he thinks there may be comedy gold here after all. Comedy gold for him. Maybe he’s starting to wonder if I’m having him on. If I’m doing a turn. Doing a turn in front of comedy god Stewart Lee. Maybe people do that all the time. I don’t know. I’ve never met a comedy god before. ‘It’s a tree,’ I say, but with emphasis. That’s to show it’s the catchphrase about a tree. ‘I love the ambiguity of it. Do you mean the living woody edifice that grows in verdant places but also on city streets, like here in Penge? Or are you referring to the number as in three sausage rolls? Three dogs? Three people standing in the street, one of them comedy god Stewart Lee?’

Stewart Lee has had enough. He nods his head, turns away from the door of the coffee shop. To sit in there and possibly hear more of this would be a nightmare. To have his coffee opportunity spoiled by a gabby Irish stranger go on about catchphrases, which he does not use. Who knows where this one-sided encounter might go? It couldn’t stay one-sided. He would have to engage. Give. Chat, from comedy god Stewart Lee. Who gets paid for chat. He gives a kind of wave. Afterwards I wonder about that wave. I picture it. Was it just goodbye? Was it dismissive? Was it thank you for sharing your impromptu comedy gold with me? Was it respect from one great wit to another? He passes me, keeps on going.

I call after him, ‘Comedy gold, comedy god Stewart Lee.’ And it was too. And he doesn’t turn around.