Doing gigs from your own place can be very different.

It must be an interesting change of scene, switching to Zoom-based shows, for comedians who would normally be gigging hard on the live circuit. It's a very different environment from the regular routine: in an ideal world you turn up in the back room of a pub somewhere, the audience are all in high spirits and nicely warmed up by the compere, who then gets them to give you a big round of applause.

At home, on the other hand, you might have just had a row with the other half, or a stroppy child, or been whined at by a hungry pet. Then your wi-fi decides not to reach your home office very well at the time the show is taking place, or you get logged out of your computer so have to do it on a cracked phone screen, then that stroppy child starts blaring music out next door. It's just not the same.

Even if you do get into that PC, Mac or laptop, there are so many fun things to distract you on there, while you're waiting to be introduced. If you don't do a random shuffle on YouTube you might go for a leisurely browse around a list of betting offers, take a gamble on some weird and wonderful eBay purchases, or get engrossed in an online card game with a comedy contemporary. You're having a lovely time then suddenly hear your name and you're frantically clicking tabs, trying to find Zoom again.

It's a whole different thing. Still, talk to comics who've taken a chance on the new brave world of online gigs and there are certain positives to be had. In the regular comedy world you'll often hear nightmarish stories of comedians driving from one end of the country to the other for a show, only to find that the promoter forgot to tell them that it was cancelled a week ago. Then they have to drive all the way back again. Fun times.

That never happens at Zoom gigs. Or at least, if it does, the distance they've travelled is only 'upstairs'. Or maybe 'up the garden path,' if they've got one of those posh outdoor offices. Also, the good thing about an app like Zoom is that you can often get an audience logged in too, so the comics do at least get some response when they are initially announced, and tell a good gag. Which is not the same as being in front of a live crowd, but if the Zoom audience don't respond, at least you can convince yourself that they were all accidentally on mute. Even if that was just for your set, oddly.

Also, if you're a comic who prefers to indulge in audience banter, you can actually find a rich seam of good material in the stuff you can see behind people: it's a lot more interesting than them just sitting in the front row and you guessing what they do for a living. And if you do go a bit too far and insult, say, one of their much-loved family items, at least they can't throw it at you.