It had to happen sooner or later. Going out and having an almost  totally crap time.

A friend's mother had written a play, something she's often done. We all go and see it. The play itself was performed in a bar in Chinatown. I say bar but it's also an art gallery with 3 floors. There's a bar on the top floor which was handy as the play was also set in a bar. Who needs a theatre and a set when real life provides the neccessary requirements!

The play itself was dire. Bland, predictable, full of stereotypes of a group of women who meet every 6 months to gossip about others. None of them are friends, they're all social misfits and dropouts. They actors hammed it up for all they were worth (which wasn't much) and it later transpired that the director had taken the play in a different mood and direction than the writer had wanted. End result - a bit of a farce really.

Still, the evening wasn't totally ruined with the accouncement of an engagement, a lot of beer, wine and champage. A good natter, some Ashes and footy talk.

By 1am the barkeep was stoned and had managed to kick me 3 times and nearly pushed me off my stool which somewhat pissed me off. Quite how he gets any regular customers and business with his behavious and attitude baffles me. When it came to leave (1am) he asked everyone their names. I replied saying it didn't matter as we'd never meet again. He told me to 'fuck off then', which I duly did.

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