a saturday night microstory…

At one point that optimistic chipper little voice in Sarah’s head said “oh this is nice” as she paid a gold coin donation at interval for two cups of tea and two malt biscuits. She actually took three biscuits, fully risking the wrath of the pensioner behind the tiny kiosk’s fold down flap, because she had all three children with her and couldn’t face another micro-war over unevenly dispersed sugar hits.

Aside from the comforting gumboot teas, the neighbourhood volunteer theatre troupe’s Easter pantomime could not have been more dire…

Sarah should have known better. There were so many signs.

One: they got tickets at the last minute (i.e. no one else wanted to see the performance).

Two: there was a rugby game on at the field beside the hall and there were no car parks left (and it was raining).

Three: they had no eftpos facilities (eh? what’s cash?).

Four: the actors cavorted in through the audience in a jovial manner – looking people in the eye (big mistake when on a cold audience).

Five: the troupe stopped to try and ‘sell’ things along the way (cringey, especially as Sarah had to sit at the end of the row.  She had always had an accidentally friendly face. No not friendly, really, not).

Six: the main character was not a man dressed as a woman, which is usual practice for panto’s, rather a woman who looked like a man who’d dressed as a woman (which was confusing for the children).

Seven: they kept turning the house lights up and asking questions like ‘does anyone have a mobile phone?’ (Sarah fretted at this – yes, but its buried at the bottom of the bag and the screen is really smashed, small shards of glass shear off when the screen is touched).

Eight: the female 2nd lead character was young, provocatively dressed, and said suggestive things to the audience (Sarah found this annoying. a) because she never did that when she was young and wishes she had and b) it was confusing role modelling for the girl children)

Nine: the minor characters did really weird swirly dances that made no sense (was she missing something? Was this avant garde?)

Ten: two of the men wore tights (hideous even when necessary on a cyclist).

...always room for a silly wig at our place

…always room for a silly wig at our place

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