So, last night we went back out for #Tuesday, gathering around us the usual crowd of reprobates and trouble-makers to pretend to listen to some music while unwinding from the chaos of life. I was on driving duties because, let’s face it, I wasn’t going to even try to justify getting between Lady M and a couple of pints of beer.
The upside is that I have perfect recall of everything that happened last night, and will be leveraging this knowledge mercilessly for as long as it’s funny.
Lady M and I were joined by Lord Danger and Sir S, and in the spirit of shenanigans and partial gallantry we swiftly rescued the ex-Lady M and Lady G from the conversations in which they were enmeshed. As they came across to join us, I could see musicians flinching in anticipation of a loud night to come. How could we disappoint them? By the time we reached the half-way point in the evening, there were quiet appeals from the frazzled musicians, who claimed to be unable to hear themselves play over the sound of an increasingly tipsy opera singer, the Ladies, and the occasional bemused smirk from myself and Lord Danger (who was regaling us with tales of his own return to work this week).
These appeals of course, in the style of school children around the world, provoked the sort of semi-hushed giggling and pretence of compliance hated by teachers wherever attempts at quelling hilarity are encountered. Out of deference to Lady G, who has to live with one of the aforementioned musicians, we did tone it down – a bit.
Rowdy, bawdy, and generally heavily invested in just having a good night out, it was definitely the spirited tonic we needed. Roll on next week…