Well, that’s it, folks. Summer’s end. It’s raining again. Ah well, it was fun while it lasted. At least the giggage continues apace.
Friday at the Swan, and the turnout was a bit on the light side – apparently the good citizens of Thornbury have taken to staying home of a Friday night in recent months – and this one was not very different. In fact, as there were not too many in, and they were quite shy, Emma had to encourage them at the end of each song to applaud.
In fact, for one number – which tails off gracefully with eight bars of acapella vocals, and thus doesn’t have a definite “Clang” ending – in a moment of genius, to avoid any confusion for the punters, at the moment the last note fades away, Emma helpfully announces,“THE END”; which had the rest of us creased up in hysterics. Oh, how we love that woman.
Saturday at the Railway was rather better populated, and we had an absolute hoot with the punters. Somebody mentioned it was their birthday, at which point a lady in the corner pointed to the chap she was sat with, “And it’s his birthday tomorrow. He’s just told me. This is our first date tonight”
Emma is intrigued; “Your first date? How’s it going? Do tell us.”
The poor bloke is clearly hoping for the ground to open and swallow him up.
Emma is undeterred, and “encourages” the hapless chap to get up dance around playing tambourine for us, while his date films him on her phone, tears of laughter running down her face.
“If it all goes well, one day, we’ll play the wedding, if you like” announces Emma cheerfully.
There really is nothing like shared embarrassment and humiliation to bring people together, I always say.
Afterwards, Emma asks me “D’you reckon it’ll work out for those two?”
“Maybe”, I tell her. ”I can picture them five years from now. “Darling, do you remember our first date?”
“Yes; yes, I do. We shall not speak of it again.”
Coming up in the future – more young lives ruined….
– Old Mail House, Staple Hill
We played here last year at some point. I have no memory of it whatsoever. Presumably, then, we had a Very Good Time Indeed.
– Fire Engine, St George
I do remember this one. Last time we played here, we were accused of being “a bit mental” by the landlady. I really have no idea why. Well, that’s not entirely true – I can think of half a dozen reasons why; I just don’t know which one it was…
That’ll do, pig.
PS – a new thing for me – not seen the like before. I spotted this, as we were packing up in the Swan, on Friday.
Somebody has knitted the pub. No further questions.