Jammy

I was in The Book Warehouse on Waterloo Road, minding my own business and looking for a nice book to take back to my room, when two blokes walked in and said to the counter staff that they had an extra ticket for the theatre which they wanted to get rid of and asked how should they go about it. The staff suggested that the blokes should simply announce the fact and see what happened. So they did.

I happened to be standing closest to them and could see that the ticket was for Much Ado About Nothing at the Old Vic, just across the road; the cast was led by Vanessa Redgrave and James Earl Jones. Were they kidding? I posed that very question casually and was told that they weren't and that, owing to a friend not turning up, they had no use for it. Money hadn't been mentioned, so I said I'd have it. They handed it over. Thirty minutes later, I was watching two stellar actors performing Shakespeare. I was, not to put it too finely, gobsmacked. My benefactors left during the interval, never to be seen again.

So the critics savaged the direction. And the set. And the occasional mumbling from the cast. And a whole host of other things. I didn't care (although I have to concede that the critics were right overall): I had a lovely and completely unexpected treat. Being in the right place at the right time isn't something in which I am skilled, so this was a bonus.