Monday, October 22, 2007

Four go missing in Edinburgh

7.40pm Saturday 20th October. Edinburgh. The excellent wedding breakfast comes to an end and we are asked to loiter in the lobby with coffee and small talk while the big room is cleared for the Ceilidh. Mrs BW announced that she was returning to the flat on Old Toll Booth Wynd to change into her dancing shoes. Words that strike fear into the cowardly birdwatcher. I don't do dancing. Especially difficult ones that mean you have to remember things and end up stepping on lots of different peoples toes. She was joined by various other women folk and the Munch (smallest BW) ,I offered to go, but my offer was declined. I was ordered to stay at the reception and mingle. As soon as the taxi was on its way I gathered together a small (four) band of Englishmen and we sneaked off to the pub at the end of the street where I knew that they would be showing the game. (I had happened to be passing earlier inthe day and had popped in to ask them.) I had convinced myself that I would only stay for the first half. That I would be back in time for the start of the Ceilidh. The pub was very quiet but at least the rugby was on. The few Scots that were in were adopting the ABBE philosophy. Half time came and went in a blur. We stayed put. We leaped from our seats and punched the air as Cueto scored that Try and then endured minutes of increasingly forlorn hope as the Video ref played and replayed the try only to disallow it. To my left ,Ed a rugby league fan fought a losing battle against sleep. The minutes counted down, the final whistle went, the Scots punched the air in celebration at the South Africans victory. We slunk out and back to the Ceilidh to face the music in more ways than one.

5 comments:

fiwa said...

Ouch - really sorry about the loss. Hope you're out of the dog house with Mrs. BW by now...

Malc said...

Hats off to you BW. However long you had to endure the doghouse it was time well spent. I salute you for services to the male of the species and his enduring, pointless, mindless love affair with games of all kinds.

Reg Pither said...

Irish dancing with your pants on your head while carrying four pints is indeed an achievement Mrs BW should be proud of. Did you get the line I used to get? "Yes, I know. He's an idiot. But he's MY idiot!"
Next time we'll do it!!!

I, like the view said...

well I'm impressed

:-)

(of course, I wouldn't have been if you were Mr ILTV, but that's the great thing about this - you're not!)

The Birdwatcher said...

Fiwa - things are fine with Mrs BW, I gave a virtuoso dancing performance and she was happy.

Malc - Thank you for those kind words. We all have to do our bit. Selfless to a man.

Reg - Were you there? A spot on description of me on the dance floor.

ILTV - To be fair Mrs BW took it very well. Like a man you could say.