![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Apr. 14th, 2007 12:35 amJust a normal Friday shift for me, but a Monday shift for the Monday-Tuesday crowd, thus plenty of nibbles table goodness. Another full box of gorgeous McVitie's Moments (chocolate toffee crunch) - with more people to go round today I restricted myself to two.
At 2.24 I made what I'd decided would be my last call of the day, to an old lady who turned out to be in and willing to do the survey on the spot. Thankfully, she being over 70 and retired, she only took four minutes; I got my payclaim entered and went to dump my notes in the confidential waste bin, preparing for the mad dash to the bus stop, when on my way back from the bin I met Cathy and she offered me a lift home. Phew.
Just got back from the Gosport Gang Show Gala Night at Ferneham Hall. In the VIP area we were met by Alan, the District Commissioner, and the County Commissioner, who introduced himself as Dick Whittington. My mother thought he was joking, but his name badge confirmed it. He soon confessed, though, that the name he was born with was David but he'd been known as Dick ever since his army days. He has, though, called his own son Richard - "People say 'Your parents weren't that cruel, were they?'. I say 'No, but I am.'" We just had time to start a sherry each before we were rushed off to have a photo taken in front of the Scout flags just before the show started. As we were hurried out of the VIP area I necked the rest of my sherry, my mother abandoned hers.
We were sat with John and Pam, Alan, and Dick and his wife Fran. The show was very well performed as always, though one handicap was that the acoustics of a professional theatre weren't best suited to child performers so we struggled to hear some of the song lyrics. Dick and Fran observed as much over the starter. The comic sketches were all very funny, with some local colour as always, and a couple of the musical numbers were tied in to it being Scouting's centenary year - the opening number had a big birthday cake on the stage, a later medley showed pics of Scouts from 1907 and now plus the original 'Scouting for Boys' manual. One sad little monologue showed a teenage boy, starved of affection at home, lavishing love on a dog he meets out walking, then saying a few lines about not knowing the identity of his birth father, leading into a lament of a song "Who am I..." And that was it - just a two-minute soliloquy and a song, then curtain down, end of sketch. I somehow thought the sketch ought to have continued a little while.
After part one the food was served. At every course the waitresses got a bit mixed up over who was having which of the two options, but we always put them right and made sure we ended up with what we ordered. All of us except my mother and Alan were served our starters, then the waitresses seemed to forget about us, so my mother had to flag one down and remind them. The rest of us waited for them to get served before we started. The food was very nice, though - the tomato and mozzarella salad was perfect, and the chicken and veg just right. We had one silver tray of vegetables to go round the whole table, so all had to help ourselves in moderation; there was enough left for Dick, last to get them, when the plate got round to him, though by then Alan had already flagged down a waitress and asked for more. The waitress looked a bit shocked; my mother promptly nicknamed him Oliver and warned him he'd be taken away for a whipping, but a waitress did soon bring reinforcements of vegetables.
There was quite a long gap between dessert and coffee, and another between coffee and After Eights. The show didn't resume till 10.30 - the compere said we'd run later than planned; I wondered if the mix-ups over the food were responsible for dinner overrunning. After the show ended we were all taken backstage to meet the cast. Alan said a few congratulatory words to them, then John and my mother were both invited to speak - both made little 'well done to all the cast, and the support crew too, you were all great' speeches. We listened to Dick congratulate them all, and the director remind them to all be in at 12.30 for tomorrow's matinee, then Alan led us out front to our waiting chauffeurs. By now it was five to midnight.
Bed calls, 'night folks.
At 2.24 I made what I'd decided would be my last call of the day, to an old lady who turned out to be in and willing to do the survey on the spot. Thankfully, she being over 70 and retired, she only took four minutes; I got my payclaim entered and went to dump my notes in the confidential waste bin, preparing for the mad dash to the bus stop, when on my way back from the bin I met Cathy and she offered me a lift home. Phew.
Just got back from the Gosport Gang Show Gala Night at Ferneham Hall. In the VIP area we were met by Alan, the District Commissioner, and the County Commissioner, who introduced himself as Dick Whittington. My mother thought he was joking, but his name badge confirmed it. He soon confessed, though, that the name he was born with was David but he'd been known as Dick ever since his army days. He has, though, called his own son Richard - "People say 'Your parents weren't that cruel, were they?'. I say 'No, but I am.'" We just had time to start a sherry each before we were rushed off to have a photo taken in front of the Scout flags just before the show started. As we were hurried out of the VIP area I necked the rest of my sherry, my mother abandoned hers.
We were sat with John and Pam, Alan, and Dick and his wife Fran. The show was very well performed as always, though one handicap was that the acoustics of a professional theatre weren't best suited to child performers so we struggled to hear some of the song lyrics. Dick and Fran observed as much over the starter. The comic sketches were all very funny, with some local colour as always, and a couple of the musical numbers were tied in to it being Scouting's centenary year - the opening number had a big birthday cake on the stage, a later medley showed pics of Scouts from 1907 and now plus the original 'Scouting for Boys' manual. One sad little monologue showed a teenage boy, starved of affection at home, lavishing love on a dog he meets out walking, then saying a few lines about not knowing the identity of his birth father, leading into a lament of a song "Who am I..." And that was it - just a two-minute soliloquy and a song, then curtain down, end of sketch. I somehow thought the sketch ought to have continued a little while.
After part one the food was served. At every course the waitresses got a bit mixed up over who was having which of the two options, but we always put them right and made sure we ended up with what we ordered. All of us except my mother and Alan were served our starters, then the waitresses seemed to forget about us, so my mother had to flag one down and remind them. The rest of us waited for them to get served before we started. The food was very nice, though - the tomato and mozzarella salad was perfect, and the chicken and veg just right. We had one silver tray of vegetables to go round the whole table, so all had to help ourselves in moderation; there was enough left for Dick, last to get them, when the plate got round to him, though by then Alan had already flagged down a waitress and asked for more. The waitress looked a bit shocked; my mother promptly nicknamed him Oliver and warned him he'd be taken away for a whipping, but a waitress did soon bring reinforcements of vegetables.
There was quite a long gap between dessert and coffee, and another between coffee and After Eights. The show didn't resume till 10.30 - the compere said we'd run later than planned; I wondered if the mix-ups over the food were responsible for dinner overrunning. After the show ended we were all taken backstage to meet the cast. Alan said a few congratulatory words to them, then John and my mother were both invited to speak - both made little 'well done to all the cast, and the support crew too, you were all great' speeches. We listened to Dick congratulate them all, and the director remind them to all be in at 12.30 for tomorrow's matinee, then Alan led us out front to our waiting chauffeurs. By now it was five to midnight.
Bed calls, 'night folks.
