Saturday night in. Three stars
January 20, 2013
It’s just not right. It’s not natural. Being in on a Saturday night unless you’re entertaining or got small kids to look after. But so it was we found ourselves in this position last night. I would just like to point out that we were a victim of circumstance and not that we had planned it this way. We were meant to be out at friends having beautiful food, wine and scintillating converation. Instead, the closure of Heathrow due to snow meant my husband was still travelling through the South of England on Eurostar on Saturday morning and one of our hosts was stuck in Jersey until Sunday. Nightmare.
So I thought I’d better pop to Waitrsoe to buy us some food. Oh my God it was mayhem. The queue for the car park started way back at the traffic lights. The car park was set up as for Christmas madness with cones blocking various cut throughs. The drivers were as atrocious and lazy as they always are. Waitrose shoppers believe they have a God-given right to park within ten metres of the front door and will wait for a space and block the entire car park rather than drive on and have to walk fifty metres.
Inside the shop was no better. There was panic buying. Cupboard-stocking. Shelves cleared of goods. People rammed in the aisles. I got to the checkout and the queues were three deep. I asked a passing supervisor if they could open more tills. “Lots of our staff couldn’t get in today Madam”. I found that somewhat surprising as London transoprt was working. Think it was more a case of lazy gits thinking they have a ‘right’ to take time off if it’s slightly more difficult to get to work.
But I got the supplies.
Unfortunately the pork, sage and bean casserole was pretty tasteless so that wasn’t a good start to the evening. Then, despite us having every single fucking channel possible, there was nothing on telly that I could see, but husband thought the snooker might be worth watching as he continued to do the crossword. As ever, I was minimal help on the cryptic clue-solving. I trawled our DVD collection in desperation. “Crying with laughter” still sealed and an “Edinburgh-noir comedy thriller” sounded right up our street. So loaded it.
Have to confess now nether my husband or I can work our very posh telly. We always get the kids to do the DVDs n shit as we can’t. And oh how much did I want one of them last night. Or any of our previous housemates.Basically we needed some youth in the room. I could not get rid of the subtitles. I tried everything. Asking it to use French subtitles, asking it to hear the director’s commentary, switching everything on and off numerous times. But nothing worked. After 30 minutes I didn’t want to see the stupid fucking film anyway and husband had abandoned the room with his crossword.
I found Atonement. Both seen it before, but I felt it bore repeating. And it did. Salvaged the evening by being a four star movie and me weeping openly.
Then there was still time for the final frames of the snooker before bed.