gratitude
/ˈɡratɪtjuːd/
noun
‘the quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness’
Oh it started out so well….a rather impromptu Saturday day/night in Suffolk, perhaps managing to squeeze a Sunday lunch in on the way home for the three of us plus Freya (Neen’s daughter) and Xander and Jamie (my boys) and get back in plenty of time ready for school on Monday.
Now something going wrong with us is NOT unusual but does have a tendency to end well. I’ll give you an example...
A few years ago, when it was my birthday, Neens organised for the three of us to go and see Calendar Girls at the Phoenix Theatre in London.
Two things to note at this point:
A) I am the only one out of the three of us who ever arrives either early or on time.
B) When the three of us lose it, we lose it to the point of peeing ourselves and just having to walk away from each other because it’s too much.
Please remember point B.
Now, I’ve said it before and I’m pretty sure I’ll say it again but Neens knows EVERYBODY. It’s ridiculous. Anyway, she got us tickets from somebody she knew (of course she did) and prior to the show starting we went for a drink at The Phoenix Arts Club (with one of Neens theatrical friends) it’s lovely old bar that was old skool ‘showbiz, darhlink’.
Three or maybe even four drinks in, I start rounding them up not wanting to be late for the show. I hate rushing and I always need a pee before something starts so I need to be ON TIME! I got lots of ‘relax’, ‘its only next door’ and ‘you sure we can’t have another drink?’ before I managed to get them out of there and to the theatre.
I have to tell you, when you’ve had a few sherbets, and are very excited because you’ve actually managed to arrange something with your friends and you’re looking forward to seeing a show….it is DEVASTATING to arrive at the theatre to find it shut BECAUSE IT DOESN’T OPEN ON THAT DAY!!!
Cue the hysterics and I mean hysterics, we were wetting ourselves crying with laughter whilst pretty much most of Soho we’re looking at us thinking we were a street act and awaiting a punchline!!! No punchline, just merely, holding our crotches trying not to wet ourselves in public!!! You have no idea how hard it is for us to arrange anything (hence the reason spontaneous events are much easier for us…on the day, yes, I can go/no, I can’t go).
So after taking a million photos of ourselves at the shuttered windows of the Pheonix and chucking as many insults as we could at Neens, we left.
For those of you who don’t know this part of London, the Pheonix sits on the edge of Soho. Not sure what we were going to do, we decided to go for a wander to find another bar (because we are really good at that) and maybe even something to eat.
Before we could blink however, we found ourselves staring into the window of a sex shop.
So in we went. I can’t tell you what happened inside but suffice to say there was a whip and 3 hysterical women who were being looked at with complete and utter distain. Really, you can’t take us anywhere. I don’t think The Duchess (Janey) had ever been in such a ‘colourful’ joint.
Coming out of there we headed onto Old Compton Street and found ourselves standing outside La Bodega Negra. There are actually two La Bodega so if you find the one on Moor Street go to the other one!
I found this little intro on The Nudge, which sums it up deliciously….
(La Bodega – Moor Street)… Ignore that, and tiptoe around the corner to Old Compton Street instead. There you’ll find the illuminated entrance to a seedy-looking sex shop: an entrance so raw, authentic and unforgiving as to give you no reassurance whatsoever that it’s not exactly what it appears to be. Having ventured inside you’ll find a man standing in front of a glass cabinet of erotic paraphernalia. If he’s holding a clipboard and standing opposite a cloak room kiosk, then you’re in the right place. If he’s not, then you should probably leave. Quickly.
So, we found ourselves on the outside of what looked like a peep show and what could we do but enter.
Honestly, I don’t remember much after that, but I know there was tequila involved in the form of Margarita’s (cos I just love it) but I do know this…when we make plans, they go wrong. But something good or fun comes out of it…ALWAYS!
I’m so grateful the theatre that night was closed. I am a big believer in gratitude.
Every night, much to the amazement of Neens and Janey plus a few others, I say my prayers and thanks you’s. I don’t find it odd to do this, but their reaction has always been one confusion.
But why should giving thanks be odd? When somebody holds a door open for you, don’t you automatically thank them?
Who you say thank you to is, of course, up to you. BUT gratitude is so very important throughout life.
💜dB🤘🏼