The log is unusually silent about this event. Especially unusual, as I was regularly recording my thoughts, even if just solo word, at that time.
I suspect this means that we didn’t think much of the piece/production but didn’t want to rubbish it.
Our diaries are also silent on what we did afterwards, other than a note in Janie’s diary to expect the show to end no earlier than 10pm. I suspect we picked up shawarmas on our way home.
I liked this play and production far more than Janie did. Where I liked the intellectual aspects of the content, Janie found them pretentious and at times confusing.
I wrote in my log and I remember this production as such too. In 1992 I was still going to this sort of production with Bobbie as long as she was available, which most often she was, despite her protests that mebooking stuff so far ahead meant she couldn’t/wouldn’t guarantee her availability.
Bobbie was there for this one.
I’m pretty sure I had seen Bobbie the night before as well. The diary simply says “clubbing” which, as I recall it, meant a West End evening with Bobbie and several of her law reporter friends.
I remember the evening of Friday 13 March 1992 clearly, because I almost lost my life earlier that day on the M11, driving out to see Schering, when a lorry shed its load of timber on the two-lane motorway ahead of me and I had nowhere to go (other than into a central reservation barrier to the right or into the vehicles to my left) so I slowed down as much as I could through the timber and then vehicularly limped to the hard shoulder to have my broken car and shaken me rescued.
I must have bored everyone shitless with my Friday 13th story that previous evening and for sure the events of the day and evening of 13th were small beer compared with the drama that unfolded at The Lyttelton on the Saturday Night.