Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Where I Get To Peak At What The World Sees

Where I Get To Peak At What The World Sees

We - Dean, History Boy and I - are sat in the corner window at Ha Ha. Even though outside is glorious and we are practically the only people inside I have refused - to History Boy's bemusement - to go and sit in the roped off seating area in Millennium Square due to the combination of the wind, my strappy summer dress and my temporarily straightened hair.

In an hour's time we are due to go and see Opera North's Katya Kabanova in what has become our regular fixture of go see Opera (much of which Corinne will not understand) and then get drunk enough to vomit outside the BBC the next morning. Because, obviously, this is what people do when the go to the Opera. Tonight there is the added component that the Opera we are to see is so offbeat that History Boy, whose knowledge of such matters is bordering on the scary, does not understand it. I cannot see how I am possibly to manage.

To counter this we have decided that getting drunk before the show - as opposed to during and afterwards as normal - is the way forward. We have been here for over two hours. There are a bewildering number of glasses on our table. I have already lost count of what I have drunk. I can almost see my hair being held back in the toilets of North Bar.

Given that Dean has loudly vetoed any discussion involving the (lack of) merits in the great Dickens vs Shakespeare ongoing debate* History Boy and I have instead settled down to argue about The Future of the English Language. I know you are rolling your eyes and willing me to get back to talking about clothes or David Tennant, but, it remains, I find this an incredibly interesting topic. This might be one of the reasons why I am a bit of a Geek.

Because The Future of the English Language is such an exciting subject (in some quarters) I am talking about it with my hands and everything.

At this point Dean spots J, who is joining us in our Opera exploits (if not the drunken bit). All three of us wave and, because it is polite and having an argument in front of Dean about whether the written word is going to be forever damaged by the text message is one thing but having it in front of someone on their first Opera visit is something entirely different, we draw to a close the argument in a way that neither of us quite wins.

J makes her way over to us and I notice that she is smirking.

"What?" Dean asks.

"I was just thinking how pretentious you three look" she laughs.

I do a little scan of our group. I am talking with my hands whilst wearing a 1950's style summer dress. History Boy is wearing a cord jacket. Dean has a pashmina draped around him.

For possibly the first time this evening there is absolutely nothing I can say in response.

*Obviously there is no real debate. Shakespeare rocks. Dickens doesn't.


Stephen said...

Sorry, it's been bothering me - did you really mean 'Peak'?

Corinne said...

No, I meant 'Peek' - I was going to change it but the lazy-itis caught me. And now it will have to say or these comments won't make sense ;-)

Corinne said...

"to stay".

Wow, I need to look at my spelling I think...