And a great show it was, too. It began with some strange guy Galahad (Are you sure he was called Galahad?, said my Fool. Course I'm bloody sure, I replied, I'm not stupid. He was called Galahad.) giving some kind of speech with special effects. No idea why. Didn't listen.
But then things got better as the lovely lady Wrenaya agreed to dance with me. Very exciting it was, so exciting I kept treading on her toes. I think I shall commission some dancing lessons from Lennidhren. Wrenaya complained about my boots. Maybe I should think about changing them. Or giving them a polish. Or even a wash. I shall think of something.
There was, however, considerable competition for her attentions, and I ended up getting elbowed aside by some dork. Maybe the same dork I saw before, who knows, but definitely a dork. Does he even know who I am?
What else was there? Some bobbits did something, probably involving food and orifices. I wasn't paying attention to them, only to the lovely Wrenaya. And then somebody else, not even Beor, played the bagpipes again. Ouch. Nasty. Then some more bobbits. Tinki gave me some stuff to smoke, which cannot possibly have been legal. Not this stuff, no way. I bowed to lots of people and mumbled a bit. Then I fell over.
Old Wynyards did their thing, led by that nasty bagpipe man, Beor. I really cannot understand why he was asked to lead the house band. A band led by a bagpipe player? Could Ales and Tales sink any lower? Still, the evening was redeemed by a performance by Gaigaggil which was, in the opinion of my Fool, seriously classy. A lesson in quiet, understated elegance. (I thought it was less than adequate, but I didn't say anything. At least it didn't involve bagpipes.)
Actually, talking about understated elegance, that is something which nobody has ever said about my Fool. Ever. He tends to be a polarising person. People either like him or hate him. He's been fired from multiple bands for playing too many notes, playing too loud, playing too long, or for suggesting that the band leader do obscene and anatomically improbable things (this was the most recent occasion). He's had multiple complaints from bar owners, who don't like the things he's said to the crowd. (Usually the crowd doesn't mind, they're too drunk. It's a bar, mister bar owner, lighten up. Geez. Ahem.) But there are the others, too, who don't mind him, and just get up to dance.
The sad thing is, of course, is that he just can't keep his mouth shut, and causes offence often, even when he's not trying to, and doesn't want to.
I apologise for him, yet again. My Fool is definitely an embarrassment.