>>>>>Killing Time<<<<<

Play was good. We ate Thai before we headed to the theatre. I had an extremely hot jungle curry that had me in tears after the first mouthful. As a result I had to drink lager. Why do I do it? Our recent restaurant nightmares, not previously documented here, continued when M's dessert didn't arrive. We waited and waited. And waited a bit more. I needed the toilet, but M insisted that I wait and wait and wait until the dessert was brought to her as she didn't want to be seen waiting alone for a long period of solo waiting. Which made life in the trouser department very distressing. In the end, it transpired, the waitress had forgotten to write the order down, which is an essential part of waiter-kitchen communication. We laughed. And laughed. And smiled. And ate mints. And said it didn't matter. Because they are nice polite people who were thoroughly apologetic and the food we did have was amazing. I'd printed out a hard copy of the play outline to hand over in person (to the theatre, not to the restaurant, who don't even know I'm writing a play. Or maybe they do, but I certainly didn't tell them), due to the email problems. But I needn't have bothered as the email had, in the iterim, finally arrived. Brief chat about the play (the one I'm about to write, not the one we saw, although we did talk about that too). That done means that the decks are cleared and I can start work on it. Which means I'll probably think of a thousand other things to do instead. Or maybe just eat and watch Curb Your Enthusiasm.