Sometimes I Smile Politely is a pleasant ramble through 50-minutes of anecdotes about sexism, misogyny and harassment. It's worth taking a second to consider: that's just a selection of one woman's personal experience. The woman in question is Ness Lyons, a sparky and articulate former lawyer, poet, mother and actor. She's friendly and informal: the few men in the audience don't seem threatened.

Her show is a mix of storytelling and spoken word poetry. Ness slips from one to the other easily, rhymes and rhythms shifting as we go. There are occasional moments when she seems nervous, but they just make it feel more intimate. I feel like we're in Ness's sitting room. She seems mild, but I wouldn't want to rile her.

Her command of language is lovely: a Christian handing out bibles calls her a whore when she doesn't want one - that's "secular harassment". We play sexism ("compliment") bingo. "Can't keep her legs shut - slut!" calls Ness. The winner is awarded a lovely shiny pink sash emblazoned Dickhead. (She's still wearing it as she leaves the event, and I wonder how far home she'll get before she remembers it's there.)

Ness is no embittered misandrist. She has boobs, heels and sass, and is quite open about fancying boys. It's ok to admire men on the street: "The difference is, I use my inside-my-head voice". There's a section about comments from women too - especially to new mothers. And we even get a breastfeeding joke, about mothers being able to "express" themselves! I hope it doesn't give too much away to say that Ness uses her legal expertise for ultimate victory over one bunch of arseholes.

It's quite easy to get carried along, and forget what a dirty subject this is. As I leave a feel a vague sense of disappointment. What had I hoped? That Ness Lyons would solve harassment once & for all? That's a lot to lay at anyone's door, but I do think if anyone could, she could.

I can't entirely decide. Is the irony that smiling politely is one of our greatest weapons? To keep the moral high ground and let it all wash over us and stay unaffected in the face of so much rage and frustration? A lot of the show is really about balancing wisdom and pragmatism (doing nothing, keeping aloof) with the desire to punch the bastards in the nuts. The trouble is (as currently in politics) that knowing we are the good guys and hoping we win out in the end is too long a game, and sometimes something more vicious is needed. Solidarity is good, but a bit of judo doesn't go amiss either.

The thing is, as one audience member remarks afterwards to her male companion, all those things Ness spoke about have happened to practically every woman I know. My own experiences wouldn't fill a 50-minute show. I'm one of the lucky ones, and lucky to live here and now. My experiences would probably only fill 25 minutes.

On the way home I resist the urge to stare down every man I pass. Maybe Ness has changed things after all.