Again we’d like to thank one of the UK’s leading actors Ross Kempp (we’re getting less sure that that’s the way he spells his name!) with his advice to all you budding actors out there and here’s an insight into his acting week. This week, with people back on the public transport and the wearing of facemasks, Ross tells us about how he helped enforcing the facemask rules……..
As some of you are aware, some of the world’s greatest actors are out of work at the moment, even me! Being a part of this category, I have looked to rectify the situation on numerous occasions but to no avail. Unbelievably I’m no longer welcome in every British A&E suites after turning up unannounced with a camera crew on several occasions and I’ve even turned my skills to the security game (read about that HERE) which sadly was not fruitful .
Like most geniuses, I was again struck with another new innovative idea to earn a few quid. It came to me whilst watching Clint Eastwood in “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly”. Comedy genius and local repertory theatre panto stalwart Bobby Davro is a good friend of mine and in many ways the pair of us are like that film’s Blondie and Tuco in the search for new riches. This time my idea, unlike my previous ventures , was bound to be a success. What is my new idea I hear you ask? Well, we’ve all seen the news this week about the compulsory wearing of facemasks on public transport. Knowing just how stretched our law enforcement is I thought, ‘Why not help them out and save some lives?’ …….and also earn a few quid at the same time! It’s a win-win situation.
I think my offer to help must have gotten lost in the post or TfL ignored me, which does surprise me as they do write to me fairly often about missing congestion charge payments. Nevertheless, rules are rules and Bobby and myself were determined to enforce them …….. and earn some cash at the same time. Together Bobby and me were the flag bearers for social justice and business working hand in hand and besides I don’t think we need permission anyway.
After a briefing at my 78th floor flat in White City, which essentially was watching snooker and drinking a few cans of Kestrel, we donned our hardest looking leather jackets and headed down to the tube. Fighting our way through crowds of pickpockets and Big Issue sellers, we made our way towards Hainault. Bobby, with his eagle eyes, spotted our first piss taker. We approached the bloke who was dressed in a suit who at first appeared starstruck as to why two internationally recognised actors were in front of him. Bobby immediately launched into his impression of Victor Meldrew shouting, ‘I don’t believe it!’ but after we explained to the bloke who the impression was we then told him that he was taking the piss by not wearing a mask, reality hit home. I told the disease spreader he was being fined £50 on the nose which was payable on the spot otherwise things would get handy. He dared to question my authority even stating, “I thought the fine was £100?” to which I replied we are doing him a favour with a first week only £50 cash offer to avoid any tax man involvement. Whether it was my excellent and persuasive communication skills or me jabbing a baseball bat in his ribs, but he finally saw sense.
After I scribbled his penalty notice professionally written in biro on the back of an old William Hill betting slip (Sad Ken in the 3.30 at Newmarket had looked a dead cert!) I looked up to be greeted with a sight as criminal as seeing someone spill a full pint in Wetherspoon’s – the Romanian tissue seller! The woman, mono-browed and sporting what looked like a freshly shoplifted shawl, was carrying a huge sports bag full of tissues as she waddled along the carriage placing her wares on the seats beside passengers and trotting out some sob story about her son who was born without a head. In fairness it was one of the finest audition pieces I’ve ever seen and maybe I should have mentored her towards a local drama school to become an actor like what I done.
All eyes in the carriage were on Bobby and me and it reminded me of my days in the theatre performing Shakespeare for the masses (my Othello is still talked about although mainly by the BLM movement). Having put the world to rights regarding the lack of masks, I felt the weight of expectation from all the passengers fall upon my shoulders once more and I could sense the woman was frustrated that no one was buying her Kleenex’s. It was time to act and I, an actor, was the right man in the right place.
With a handful of reddies from the earlier on the spot fine, I waved a tenner in the air instantly getting her attention. Her gaze was firmly locked on the money as the train pulled into Bond Street and then as the doors opened I instinctively threw the note out the door and she jumped out of the carriage after it. ‘You threw away £10?’ I hear you shout. Let me assure you I had the last laugh ………it was a £10 note that Hooky Harry printed from his lock up. It was a deception second only to that of the wooden horse of Troy, and with that the doors closed and we were away. I’m certain there were screams of elation which I’m used to hearing from the females at book signings I do at my local Asda petrol station mini mart. Either that or it was the sound of the train screeching round a bend.
Acts of community spirited valour is exhausting and Bobby was tired so we decided it was best to retire to his motor home on the Isle of Dogs to further investigate a bottle of Ouzo he had uncovered from our lads trip to Faliraki 86’. Anyway this weeks lesson I want to get across is, ‘Nothing ventured, Nothing gained’. I ventured! I gained £45! Not bad for 15 minutes work. Now some of you might say, ‘I thought you got £50 for the mask infringement’. Well as you know I’m a top bloke and I made sure that Bobby got his fair cut.
…………………………………………………………………………………………c/o Andy Brooks