Sinister: Faure, fibs & freaks

[Rebecca Wright]

Hello people,

Well, not even a culture filled classical concert could escape the
aura of smut & debauchery which follows us around. Me and Jill spent
the first half of the evening throughout beautiful elegant works by
Tavener staring at the little Chinese woman violinist whose feet
couldn't touch the ground and the conductor in a tuxedo and white
polo-neck.
Come the interval we were assured by one of the many little old lady
bouncers that the second half would not commence for another 20
minutes so we convened to the nearby pub where Dad strung out some
dubious story about Pat Butcher and Hyacinth Bucket once being live-in
lesbian lovers. 
Returning 15 minutes later we discover the little old lady was
fibbing and Faure's requiem had already started. Unable to get back to
our top-notch seats we were smuggled up into balcony and sat right
behind a pillar blocking our view. No worries, we'd just move to those
empty seats to the left come the applause. The movement ended and
there was not a single clap, it was to this awful stagnant silence
that we shuffled across very creaky floorboards to the point where the
conductor with the mullet and polo neck looked up and GLARED at us.
That was the cue for my Dad to get a case of the hiccups, I had to
pull my fringe over the side of my face to block the view of his
shaking shoulders for fear I'd start giggling hysterically during a
dramatic pause in the music.

At the end of the night we're standing outside the Sheldonian when
this posh Oxford guy in a tuxedo walks pass Dad and calls out to him
"I saw your faeces, thought it was marvellous!", we concluded he must
have said "thesis" but the damage was done.

On the car journey back just past Sainsbury's roundabout we spot a
guy trouserless and goose-stepping down the grass verge towards the
Science Park.

I had 3 pancakes.

Happy Valentines.

Love Becky.xx
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