Carfax was a lively old space this morning. Sunshine, laughter, chatter and then a loud shout; “Oi! Stop eating that bubble gum!” The chunky hound under scrutiny assumed a “Who me?” expression. Soaking up the sunshine.
“Hey, you going to the coffee morning again tomorrow LB?”
“Where’s it held?”
“In the church Mum.”
“Wow. Do you meet people there?”
“Who do you meet there?”
“Old people Mum.”
“Oh. Do you know any of their names?”
“Barbara Mum. And the other old people.”
“That’s nice. Do you talk to them?”
“What do you talk about?”
“Old people stuff Mum.”
“What’s old people stuff? Tell me something you talk about?”
“Getting older Mum.”
Ok, here’s the rub. You’ve bought tickets to see a show in London (a costa-del-armandleg jobby). Three rows in front, a young geezer does impressions of the gorilla, Bolo, from the Mighty Boosh in a very loud voice every few minutes*. The person next to him makes a show of saying “Shhhhhhhhh”, but this is more to appease the increasingly irritated people around them, than any expectation that he’ll watch the show quietly.
So, should they leave so that everyone else rest can watch the show in peace?
Or should the audience relax their expectations? Continue reading