Nina Conti

The Guardian - The Guide - - Netf Lix & Quill -

Know­ing how my act can go, it was a punchy call to agree to do a bar mitz­vah in a posh Lon­don ho­tel. I didn’t know the fam­ily, but they’d asked for me specif­i­cally and as­sured me I should do my usual thing. There were lots of kids there, so I thought I’d keep it clean but play to the adults and the kids could en­joy the funny vi­su­als. I at­tached the Vel­cro straps of my ven­tril­o­quist face mask around the locks of a fam­ily mem­ber from the head ta­ble and went sail­ing off into an im­prov about how she was on the prowl for a new man: “No man in here is safe from me now, cos I’m leav­ing my bor­ing hus­band!” It didn’t go down well. The woman stiff­ened be­neath the mask as it started to seem more like a muz­zle. Maybe not the best seam to plough on re­gard­less, but worse to find out later I had stum­bled on a truth, of which lots of the guests were aware.

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