Pertaining to Pentameters

Another week, another fringe theatre trip and another opportunity to embarrass myself.

At the start of the play the hostess pleaded with everyone “please come back after the interval as many people don’t”   We all fidgeted uncomfortably in our seats, it was going to be a long evening.

When nature came yodeling I clambered down and jumped off the drop, unfortunately I landed right on the foot of the hostess who was sat behind a post beyond my view.  To her credit she didn’t let out a peep, years of professionalism or was she three sheets to the wind?   I think most of them were, they had a pianist playing as we entered, she was looking like Nana Mouskouri dressed as a fortune-teller, happily tinkling the ivories and laughing to herself.   My friend commented there were more crazy people here than in a mental institution she visited, she had a point.  (I never asked what she was doing visiting an institution, I made a note to never cross her just incase)

Finding the toilet was an adventure in itself, making my way through the corridor, I was faced with multiple door options nothing signalling where the toilet was.  Then a door opened and a man with the demeanour of Lurch from The Addams Family appeared and directed me to the correct door, he pulled the door shut again.   Was he employed just for toilet directions?  What is going on behind the door he came from?

The toilet was something else, scattered around the hand basin was so much clutter, ceramic cats, doll parts, vases, brushes and other assorted bric-a-brac but I couldn’t find the soap, I shrugged – I suspect I am cleaner than anything I would touch in this room. 

The play was appalling, I’ve seen amateur dramatics and been impressed by the quality but these were supposedly professionals.  The play was heralded as a comic farce as events unfolded at a gay wedding, I’ll reveal the end as you’ll never see it,  it turns out one of the grooms married his fag hag instead.  The writer was sat near us, a bohemian type of lady accompanied by two gay gentlemen and the thought crossed my mind that the play maybe semi-autobiographical and she yearned for this scenario to play out in her own life.

It was a charity night and a raffle took place after the performance, most of the winners happened to be the same circle of people who organised the event, did I hear you say fix?   We did win one prize though and we were to select it from a table of rewards, my friend did the honours and shouted back if we wanted a bottle of port or a ladies wedding hat, “The hat” screamed my other friend.   You won’t be surprised to learn they are both drag acts – they’ll get more longevity from the hat.   

As the raffle dwindled down it turned out one of the actresses had a book which was one of the prizes but had so far gone unclaimed, every time someone got up to claim a prize she would yell with great intent “There’s still my book”   My heart went out to her, someone please claim the book.

As we travelled back to Camden, we discussed the next theatre trip, my ony request being if it could be a good play next time, though there are benefits to seeing a diabolical play as it usually results in a few laughs and a few tales to tell and a trip to Pentameters will surely result in many of those.

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