Louise Atkinson is at the Edinburgh Fringe performing her show She’s Got The Look at Gilded Balloon Patter Hoose at 12.05pm.  Here she shares what she can't get enough of at the festival, her most embarrassing Edinburgh experience and the worst thing about the Fringe…

Edinburgh Binge

I don't know how we are interpreting binge, but you better believe I'll be working my way through the Pie Maker's menu on South Bridge during my trip to Edinburgh.

There are 28 items on the menu, including sweet and vegetarian options, so it is still a varied diet, and inside the shop is an information sheet about the origin of pies, so I get a history lesson as well.

In the year when I went full Henry VIII, had a pie, ate it near a castle, and my feet hurt so bad I thought I had gout, it may have been an overindulgence, but I'm much more experienced now.

Edinburgh Cringe

There are probably quite a few comedians who have experienced this, but at the start of my career I had a full-time day job while gigging full-time. In most cases, this means telling your employer, so that you can honestly explain why you have to leave early on certain days, rather than suggesting that you suffer from a chronic medical condition that flares up four evenings a week.

As a result, all of your colleagues will tell you about their views on comedy and desperately want to see you. I usually fended them off, made excuses, threatened their families, and convinced them not to come.

During my show last year, however, a woman sat in the front row looking agitated and annoyed throughout. In order to emphasise how agitated she was, she sat side-saddle on a chair for an hour, with a facial expression like someone had punched a quiche. Something told me she had not enjoyed the show.

The fact that she then came up to me afterwards shocked me quite a bit. As she smiled, told me her name, and stared at me, she revealed that we had worked at the same company four years ago. I apologised for not recognising her, thanked her for coming, and said, 'I hope you enjoyed the show', to which she inhaled, grumbled, and said, 'yeah, I guess comedy is subjective like you said. Anyway, I'll let everyone at the office know I've seen you.’

As a result, I am intending to change careers and become a lighthouse keeper, where I am able to hide from humans for the rest of my life.

Edinburgh Winge

It is important for me, as an artist, to show support for all other artists at the festival. 

Certainly, you can express yourself however you like, that is the true essence of the festival. Also, I fully understand that as artists, we need to flyer, or have people flyer for us, in an enthusiastic manner, to try and encourage people to come to our shows. Understood.

However, if you are part of an improv troupe and think the best way to attract me to your show is to do street improv, which you feel should be immersive and include me, then may I direct you to your nearest bin, where my suggestion is you can get in it.

The fact that I wear a lanyard, walk with purpose, and have a face filled with so much thunder that it looks like I've been hit with Thor's hammer, should be enough to indicate that I am exempt from your advertising. It's great if you find audience members who would love nothing more than to pay to see actors perform a warm-up exercise, good for you, I'm pleased, but please keep me out of it.

And no, finding out that you'll be doing it drunk does not entice me any more to see it. Thank you, good day and limited regards.