…the thing I didn’t mention about yesterday’s charity do was that I nearly broke the habit of a lifetime and tried to chat up someone I’d only just met.
This is not my usual style. I brood, aloof, and wait.
But one of the stand-up performers did a routine best described as “mimed comedic burlesque”. That doesn’t really do it justice, but it reminded me of cabaret performers in the pubs of the East End of London, or a camped up middle aged female variation thereof.
She was quirky, funny, interesting, clearly a bit barking. The kind of woman it would be easy to adore. Having had a few beers I was sorely tempted to switch into my outrageous mode. She knew I’d been tickled by her performance as I couldn’t help grinning at her.
All this was cut short when she slipped her husband into conversation, who then duly trundled around the corner like a motley gooseberry. Blast and damnation. I mentally re-adjusted, adopting male resignation at having been beaten to it. But, oh, the unrequited frisson.