Saturday, 24 June 2017

Bat out of hell...

Well it's a fun packed weekend in store for the husband and me.  I know it's hard to believe, but I am a massive Meatloaf fan, so as you can imagine, when word reached me that there was going to be a new musical based on Bat out of Hell, there was no stopping me.  I bought the tickets that long ago, that I'd almost forgotten doing it, and it wasn't till Miss R mentioned it a couple of weeks ago that I remembered.  And boy, have I been a complete pain in the neck since then.  Singing the songs, reminding myself of the lyrics (as if that were necessary, the words are imprinted on my brain) and hardest of all, deciding what to wear.

Now.  If I were somewhere between 15 and 25, this would be easy.  Faded ripped jeans and a lot of leather fringing with massive hair.  Get a little older, say, up to 40, and it would be black skinny jeans, over the knee boots and a leather jacket, albeit without the fringing perhaps.  Unfortunately, I fall into the next category (40 to dead), so have to put a little more thought into my Meatloaf apparel.  And it's summer, which means that anything black is not particularly wise, especially as we are 'going on' afterwards for dinner.  Before you start worrying about the effect that eating a large meal after 11.00pm can have, let me reassure you that I have booked tickets for the matinee. Not very Rock 'n' Roll admittedly, but I don't cherish the idea of mainlining Gaviscon through Saturday night.

I think I have settled on some cheeky black and white checked trousers (ankle grazers, so erring on the side of cool I think) which I will top with a sleeveless black t-shirt with some serious zippage.  I know I will probably sweat like something which ran the 2.50 at Ascot yesterday, but hey, not every box can be ticked, ladies.

To be honest, never mind the clothes, I'm more worried about the state of the house when the husband and I return on Sunday afternoon.  As you all know, the minute mum leaves the house, all electrical appliances (washing machine, dishwasher, iron) cease to work, and I know that there will be piles of stuff everywhere.  As both boys are in residence along with daughter number one who has come to dogsit the boys (Percy and Reg, in case you're thinking I'm slightly mad sorting out a sitter for two 6', car-driving males) the piles of stuff are likely to encroach onto the hall, making opening the front door difficult, if not impossible.

So back to Bat out of Hell and a few predictions....

As the husband and I drive up to London tomorrow, we'll joke about 'Paradise by the dashboard light'.  

He'll get lost several times, which will elicit 'For crying out loud!' from me.  

In the interval, I shall say something about the show being brilliant, and he'll agree, saying 'You took the words right out of my mouth'.

At the end of the evening, he'll say that he's enjoyed the show and the meal, and there's just one thing which would top the whole night off, bearing in mind we're staying in a posh hotel for he night.

Well girls, as track number five on the album tells us....

'Two out of three ain't bad'...



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