I've got a lovely job. I admit it. It's a far better job than I used to have; working in an office being bullied by someone with the personality of a bird bath.
However if you think being a comedy club promoter is easy you're definitely two meerkats short of an annoying advert.
Imagine the scene...there I am, at Basingstoke Comedy Club, Laughter-House, with a room full of people laughing their socks off at our opening act.
As a promoter, I am content in the knowledge that my audience are chuckling and that my headline act is on her way. And what's more, she's being chauffeured by my middle act. How cool is that? No leaving her arrival to the oddities of South West Trains, and their "no trains tonight as a leaf fell on the track at Farnborough" policy.
Then, a tale tell vibration in my back pocket. At 8.45 I couldn't help but think it was a bad omen.
"A wheel's come off the car," said a disjointed and somewhat disgruntled headline act.
"Oh," I said, always one for a sensible and intelligent response. "Er...where are you?"
"About 40 minutes away on the M25."
Lovely. That's good then. Half my acts wiped out in one fell swoop. At times like this I really do wonder whether I ought to take up the odd crafty puff of marijuana. It really can't do any harm.
It's time for a Laughter-House conflab. I huddle together with the compere and our trusty doorman Ben.
"I'll go and get them" says Ben. I always said he was a good lad.
"Stay where you are" I pant down the phone. "We're coming to get you."
Five minutes later Ben has jumped into his car and is chasing down the M3 quicker than Silvio Bernusconi after a prossie, whilst I sneak onto the Laughter-House stage to impart the news to the locals.
" I have some news" I tell the expectant audience. "My headline act and my middle acts were coming together.
Cue cheers from the dirty minded section of the audience.
"But they're stuck on the M25 and a wheel is off the car."
For some reason my audience seem to think this is part of the comedy routine. Apparently it's very funny.
"We're all winging it.." I say "The compere is going to do longer.." cue some more cheers, "Then you're going to get me for a bit longer" cue some more cheers.
"And then" I say. "Someone else is going to have a go, who's only ever done stand up once".
You'd think I'd have told them they were all getting free drinks. More cheering and beaming smiles.
So, we all did our bit, our newbie did a wonderful job, and our trusty door man Ben delivered one, very cold and shivery headline act just before 10.00pm. Ben, on further Headline Act duties, was despatched to get her some noodles, we plied her with brandy and pushed her onto the stage.
Duly warmed by the brandy and the lovely audience,she later tweeted that she'd fallen in love with comedy again after performing at our club.
And with the warmth of the lovely Laughter-House crowd, I can totally understand why.