I know a young(ish) couple who have recently moved into a nice Edwardian house in Charlton. They know I'm interested in fringe theatre. They are more interested in 'up-west' theatre. But they saw a flyer in their local pub for this show, and thought it might be nice to see a bit more of the local community. And they thought I might be interested in the theatre. And I was.
The TfL Planner was more conciliatory for this trip, and pointed out that a change of timing would allow me to change to an extra bus and have only a short walk. I feel it must know about the impending threat of counselling services coming up on November 7th. I have such a baleful view of it's malevolent capabilities, I expect it can see the future. Anyway, just for once, it seems to be behaving.
[Little do I know, because I can't see the future, that it is saving a real trial for me on the 15th November. I'm going to a little do at London Metropolitan University at Aldgate East. TfL is going to shut down almost everything in my path. There will be no DLR, and when I get to Liverpool Street via London Bridge, I will discover there is no Circle Line, no District Line and no Hammersmith & City Line. This, as the Planner knows only too well, will leave either walking or bus. It will even have the nerve to put in a sub-plot: the pretty little French girl at Liverpool Street Station Information Desk will redirect me to the Tourist Information Centre. No wonder we turn into grumpy old men, when foreigners treat us like tourists!
But the real coup-de-grace will be the 205 bus. As I emerge from the station, one will turn in towards me. I will look for the stop, and, despite the knee, start running. It will sweep majestically past me and disappear round a bend. "Oh, well", I will think, "I'll just keep going till I find the stop." Then it will reappear in front of me coming towards me! I will start running back the other way, and it will stop all the way back where I started from! Then the Aldgate East bus stop will be closed because of road works, so despite the sign on the bus saying "Bus stopping", it won't, leaving me to walk back a stop. And when I finally get back to what I will think must be Aldgate East, it will turn out to have been replaced by several new buildings and a lot of building sites. So I won't recognise any of it. But I still won't be late. I can't think counselling will help very much.]
"Respecting Your Piers" is a nice ladies-only comedy with a tinge of farce. It was set well, and played well. In a nice Am-Dram touch, the scene-changers were incorporated into the action, sort-of as the men's parts, and enjoyed their applause. Having bought a glass of wine at the interval, we were then chased-after us to empty the bottle. So we had good time, and the rest of the audience had a good time, and the cast certainly had a good time: a very pleasant evening all round.
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