Of course, I made myself a bit late, finishing the last, massive post - dashed out of the office, and as I waited to cross the road, the #135 passed, damnit! Not alone that, but I could see my other bus, the #205, lurking down the road.. which was what caused me to start to run, most inadvisedly, towards the stop. That didn't last long - but my God, I thought I'd collapse on the spot. Better I may be, but I'm not cured - I was still woozy, my throat feeling constricted, when I eventually got off, one stop further than last night.
I wheezed most of the way there, cursing the traffic lights that had held us up, and the relaxed driver that seemed in no hurry to go through them. In the event, I made the venue with minutes to spare, and the helpful usher sent me to the box office, where no id was required, so close to start time. Of course, they started late anyway - mercifully, I was in the stalls (I'd really have hated to have had to climb to the gallery after the effort it took me to get there!). And I was to the side of Row E:
Now, during the second act, when someone leaned over to whisper conspiratorially to me how bad this was, I did mention to her that I write a blog, and was wondering what to say about it. Let's see.. I mean, the guy performing this one-man show can sing, that's a fact. Part of the problem is that he doesn't do enough of it - and if there's a point to his ramblings, it's almost completely lost in a shambles of lack of organisation. For a start, the 20-minute interval happens 20 minutes in.. we all thought it was a joke!
The second act is signalled by our artiste returning, looking for his chicken. Could it get more surreal? See, the tortured artiste that he's representing, in his heyday, went around with a rare monkey on his shoulder, then in his decline, switched to a flippin' chicken. Now, a couple of loud-mouthed audience members in the row behind me were obviously plants - one suggesting he join her therapy group, the other complaining about the show, to general agreement. He was very good, I must say - and of course, the show had to be bad to make his turn realistic. I did feel that the show redeemed itself somewhat in the last numbers (when he started singing!), but overall, it's an annoying mess, and best avoided. Runs until the 12th, if you're curious - you have been warned.
I had quite a walk afterwards to get a bus that'd come reasonably quickly - it was freezing, and I didn't fancy standing. Passing a Tesco, I shopped on the way. My chest just about recovered on the first bus, finally, before a teeth-chatteringly cold wait for the second, to a backdrop of pounding pop music from the roof of One New Change, whose roof terrace has terrific views of St. Paul's, and can be hired out for private parties. And at ground level, we had the sound of various smooching couples - the long weekend starts here, obviously! When the bus finally came, it was funny to see a young woman opposite me make the woman in front of her give up her seat to a woman with a crutch - only to realise that she, herself, had a limp, and was walking worse that the woman she'd given her seat to! Goes to show..
And tomorrow, I signed up to an overnight trip to Newquay in Cornwall with Eddie's Excursions. This time, I got in the first six - ironically, they didn't guarantee it'd go ahead unless they could fill a minibus! Sure enough, it was cancelled on Tuesday. (Praise be, a lie-in!) Instead, I'm off with Funzing (through Funzing UK) - to a show called World Without Us, at Battersea Arts Centre. Gee, they're selling tickets for regular shows now! Way cheaper than the regular price, I must point out.. and that was before I applied the personal discount I got, for not having booked anything for a while.. even though I was outside the deadline for using it! :-)
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