7596/20535
Grabbing our dates where we can, so we popped to the Everyman cinema in Kings Cross to watch A Haunting in Venice. Damaged overhead lines on Stevenage almost ruined our trip as trains were cancelled or late, but we jumped on the Moorgate train and changed at Finsbury Park like champions and we were at the cinema only five minutes late. It looked like we'd have the place to ourselves, but four other people showed up just as the film started so we couldn't have wild sex adventures whilst we watch Hercule Poirot. And that's the only reason we couldn't. We definitely would have otherwise.
We'd bought Pret a Manger food on the way, but Catie insisted we wait til the film started until we ate it, in case we were kicked out. But we didn't need to worry. No one checked our tickets or came in to take orders for legal food. You could watch films for free here if you have the chutzpah to do so. And were a complete dick. We are only partial dicks as we only brought in our own food.
I had a falafel salad (one of the better choices for Zoe but still down in the 50s despite its apparent healthiness) but had forgotten to pick up a fork so tried to eat it in the dark with my train ticket and when that didn't work, just used my fingers. Sitting in the dark with humous on my fingers, not knowing quite what the next mouthful would contain, watching Kenneth Branagh pretend to be Belgian. Life doesn't get any better than this.
The film was pretty good, but then I love anything with Tina Fey, though I think it should be in her contract that whatever she's doing, at some point, someone should call her Liz Lemon. C'mon guys, have a bit of fun with it.
Catie was staying in town to have dinner with a friend (Phoebe later asked if it was a man and insinuated that she would be kissing him - what does she know?), so I came home to walk the dog and do kids' bedtime. I had planned to get ahead with prep for Friday's almost sold out gig in Belfast, but instead I watched Ghosts US with Phoebe and let the kids eat too many crisps. I am a good or bad dad depending who you ask. Actually the kids think I am bad too. They just take the crisps anyway.
