Oliver's day

Wednesday morning, Steve texts from London: "How's the hour." Ollie replies: "Hour's alright. Eighty per cent." Steve: "And the chest." Ollie: "The chest is being a chest." Status flip: a Scotsman freelancer slides a card under his Pleasance dressing room door with a handwritten note — "Car park bit is the best new writing I've seen at the fringe" — which means the bit is being named by press before he's done a single reviewable preview. Dark comedy: the Pleasance has programmed him into their festival showcase slot, an 11am to seven people and three reviewers, a holding pen dressed up as promotion. Embarrassment: Yara's hour is at nine, sold out, queue round the block; his is at half seven, half full. Decision: he buys her a pint at the Beehive and pretends not to count.