Nick and I had planned his birthday celebrations for today. Meal out, drink, and Richard Herring gig at Warwick Arts Centre.
We went for a curry at the place in Coundon. I asked if his health is OK, and he reassured me. This was good as I have been worrying. Conversation was mostly about work but that was Ok, we've always talked about work, me more than him up until a few years ago. The restaurant was pleasant, doing good trade, and the atmosphere between the staff genial. There was an obviously intelligent man, new to the job, and this made me remember my first fumbling attempts at silver service at college. I hope he turns out to be better at it than I did, or that restaurant had better know a good laundry service.
Warwick Arts Centre wasn't too busy, although Richard Herring had sold out. We sat in the cafe for a bit, again, Nick talking about work although to be fair, more general council politics. I saw three young men sitting at a table next to us. The kind of handsome that everyone can be in their early twenties, self assured, laughing together quietly. One of them glanced at me briefly, appraising I don't know what about me, and smiled under his long slick fringe. It was sort of a nice moment, and I found my concentration on him for minutes afterwards, so much so that Nick noticed. I made a lame joke that I was eyeing up the talent but it wasn't exactly that, more like viewing a moving sculpture.
I loved Richard Herring, but it was clear within minutes that Nick didn't. He wasn't the only one. It was the paedophile riff early in the routine that did it. A couple of people walked out in the middle of the first half, and more left in the interval. I was distracted by Nick's reaction and couldn't let go properly, so I've booked to see the show again in Leamington.
In the interval, I overheard a conversation. Two skinny youths had been debating in progressively loud tones, but I hadn't been following. One took out his mobile, "Hi, how are you" he said. "We're at a comedy, Richard Herring....yes, good. Its a maths question if you don't mind helping.......What is transcendental?...oh right, right, bye." He then spoke to his friend, "Yes well, essentially I was right." When I go to hear anything creative, music, comic or play, I'm filled up with it. I can't talk about anything else. How come they could, and is transcendental meditation to do with maths?
On the way back to the car park Nick started talking about being the fire officer at work. We fell out, sort of made up, and it turned out to be a shit evening.
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