Not only did he come to see Barbra with me last month but this week he bought tickets to take me to see Dancing Queen at the Theatre Royal tonight. He's either crazy or he loves me. Neither of us had read what Dancing Queen actually was so assumed it was some kind of Mama Mia type stage play but it turned out to be more of a lavish Bjorn again type tribute concert with a bizarre 70s interlude in the middle - no matter - people were dancing in the aisles like crazy. We were in the front row of the circle and I was beginning to worry it would collapse in that old Glasgow theatre given the shoogling it was doing under the feet of the dancing spectators...it didn't. So it was a nice nostalgic evening, though it finished with a wee bit of a twist. As we walked down the stairs, the fire alarm started to ring, we strolled on then realized it was a real fire alarm so everyone was hustled outside quickly to make way for the 4 (or was it 5?) waiting fire engines. We're sitting here now wondering if we have just seen the last ever show at Glasgow's Theatre Royal, in true Glasgow Apollo style and if it is currently burning down, but unfortunately we are both too tired to walk the one block to check...maybe tomorrow...
Oh and Bart gave only 2 kicks during the entire performance which lasted from 7-30 to 10pm so I don't think (s)he's going to be a wee musical baby like Pudge, just a vaguely lazy lump!
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