The show was 62 minutes long tonight which is great. I am still struggling a little with some newer bits of the show and want to sort out the ending, but it's going down quite well, though I'm slightly concerned with audience numbers. It was just under half full which is fine, but it's also half price at the moment. It has to pick up next week. Hopefully it will.
So far I haven't strayed out of the Pod Deco upstairs bar for my post show drinks (I was fairly sensible last night, less sensible this evening and so the progression shall continue). It's still a bit of a secret and so not massively patronised at the moment, which makes it a good place to go. I prefer the quiet to the noise and like to chat with my friends on comfortable seats these days.
Both nights so far I have noticed that an old woman who lives in the flat opposite the venue spends much of her night at her window, looking at the wonders going on in the venue. Yesterday she was there at 6 whe I was chatting with my director but also three or four hours later. Of course she may just spend all her days sitting at her window looking at the world, but at least she now has something reasonably interesting to look at.
I felt a bit sorry for her all alone over there and wondered if she was looking at us wistfully or happily. Was she just enjoying the spectacle or was she thinking of days gone by when she was young and gay (not like that) or did she wish she could be over with us chatting and drinking? I waved to her and tried to beckon her over for a drink, but either she didn't see me or was ignoring me (I can't even pull an old woman, how can I hope to get anywhere with coffee serving temptresses?).
Tonight she was there again. I thought it might be nice to find out her address and have some flowers and wine delivered to her, so that she can join in with the fun. But maybe she just hates us all, like some kind of ancient Scottish misanthrope and wouldn't appreciate the gesture. Instead I bought the girl who hadn't known who I was a drink and told her who I was.
I am glad I don't have to buy a drink for everyone who doesn't know who I am.
Or indeed for all the lonely old women.
Wave at her if you're in the bar and you happen to see her.
