Oh….What A Night!
I was in the fresh air and could have quite literally jumped and shouted for joy at being free from my some what sexual encounter with a piece of metal and a man’s stenching armpit. No longer was I being violated by people and poles. I was able to walk around with no one in my personal space.
Clearly enjoying my new found freedom, I made my way towards the Theatre.
Apart from the usual two cars almost crashing in to me (this is typical day in the life of London-noone obeys by stop signs or green men-if a car wants to pass then it will even if it means going head first into you on the way.You are merely a skittle in a game.)
So after a brief game of dodge the car bullet I finally arrived at the Theatre, only to look at the clock on my phone and realise that I had arrived an hour too early.
I took my seat in the bar and refrained from ordering a pint of beer for fear that I would be ID’d immediately and the judgements would begin. Instead I saved myself the embarrasment of people thinking that I was a 15 year old drinking alcohol.
As I made my way towards the back I picked up the free paper that I had been given in return for my Water purchase.
Do not get me wrong I have read a newspaper before in my life, but surely this is the modern age. I am used to A4 sized booklets that have easy turnable pages. This paper was like a fricking billboard. I looked like I was a munchkin reading a normal sized newspaper.
The worst thing was that the paper had full control over me. It was like a full blown fight for ownership…..I was not winning.
Every time I went to turn the page, the paper decided to make it the most difficult thing I have ever tried to do. Eventually I gave up and threw it with full anger and force back into my bag.
It was only once I had decided to discard the newspaper that I realised the five groups of people staring at me with amused expressions.
Feeling my cheeks begin to burn, I smiled slightly before turning my attention to turning my mobile phone on and off. Whilst this entertained me (easily impressed) apparently I was far to much of a fascinating study for the other people.
Let me set the scene.
The bar is the smallest place I have ever been in. Imagine two ice cream vans joined together and made into an actual room. Now take all of the counters and make them into a bar. There was barely enough room for four people to sit at a table. Instead it the room resembled one of those High School Dances that are so often seen on film. We all were sitting against the wall facing forward waiting for that dream man (or woman) to come and take us by the hand.
Accept there was no dance.
The people this particular production had attracted were the richest of the rich.
We are talking Queen like language, straight postures and champagne.
Little did I know this perception would get worse as soon as I hit the actual inside of the Theatre…
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