Another Thursday found me, as usual these days, in Covent Garden. The TfL Planner offered me a tube trip, the Northern Line Direct from Holborn to Kennington, or a direct bus, the 59 from Holborn to Kennington Park Post Office. My Stoke Newington success of last week persuaded me to risk all and go for the bus. I had learned enough to note down the destination stop, and its predecessor, but not enough to note down the Holborn stop. One of the wonders of London buses is that they don't always go in the direction you would expect. I gambled on the Kennington-bound 59 being southbound down Kingsway, and this turned out to be the case.
This being October, a time of equinoctial fasting, I had to deny myself the pleasures of the Princess Louise. Equally, I didn't want to arrive too early at the White Bear, which is also, as you would guess from the name, a pub. So I had a tour round Sainsbury Local at Holborn Station, expecting only to find water to my taste. Actually, water's not too bad if you're feeling hungry. But I found a rather good salad counter, where I could make up a nice salad in a plastic tub for a couple of quid. And I found a nice street corner fence to protect me while I ate it and watched the world go by.
Apart from the smelly people and the ton of newsprint underfoot, the bus journey to Kennington was uneventful. And the lady announcer was on and telling it like it was. Except it was quicker than expected. And when I got off, it was quite dark, so I had difficulty orienting myself. Having got directions figured out, I strode confidently across and up Kennington Park Road, only to see The White Bear coming up on the side I had just left. I was reminded of a cartoon I saw years ago in 'Datamation', which had a performing seal in front of three old-fashioned car horns, thinking to itself "Will I ever get it right?"
I had noticed in the Metro that there were two performances on each night, with one starting much later than the other, so I worked out there was a second house, and thought I'd just book for both (it being the equinoctial fast, and all that). But the Box Office wouldn't let me pay for the second performance when I arrived. Turned out to be a different lot running it, so I had to wait and pay them.
If you're wondering about the THREE plays in the title, let me try to explain. The first performance was, in fact, two plays interleaved. That sounds a bit odd, which it is, but they were essentially on the same subject, an after-funeral discussion between a man and a woman who had clearly known each other for a long time, but not met for some time. One couple 'froze' while the other took up the next bit of their story, with both stories developing at roughly the same pace. And it worked. The interleaving slowed each story up nicely, and they reinforced each other with their similarities. And the two casts carried off the ignoring of each other with aplomb. An enjoyable bit of theatre, well-performed and well-staged.
Then I had to buy another ticket for the next house, from a completely different set of front-of-house staff. And hung about (pubs are usually a bit of a drag when you're on the wagon, but I got to see a terrific Crouch goal live.)
The first house was reasonably well-attended, but the second house was packed. We even had requests to squeeze-up. It soon became clear why! Have you ever seen topless darts? No? Well, neither have I, actually, but I imagine it would be a bit like this.
It was a revue/sketch show, which isn't really my scene; with Topless ladies, which might be my scene; but they were young ladies, which isn't my scene; talking nonsense as the young often do, which certainly isn't my scene; but altogether a rather enjoyable experience. In one sketch, one of the young ladies offered me a nipple-shaped cake, which had me thinking immediately, it being my equinoctial fast, of Gardens of Eden and Serpents. "The woman offered me of the nipple-shaped cake but I did not eat of it." That would really have been the end of the Bible, rather than the beginning, where he did eat of it. The four young ladies put on a spirited (and, I suppose, laudable) performance for the cause. But the cause was just nonsense. And not a dartboard in sight!
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