LOVE was in the air for the seventh time last weekend when we hosted our final wedding for 2019; as yet no funerals.
That’s not to say we wouldn’t, we’d be quite happy to, well not happy as such, no one is happy at a funeral, unless it’s someone you hated I suppose; that aside we’d happily host someone’s send-off.
I was minded of a conversation I had with three of our volunteers. No, not the being despatched part, the getting married bit. The three of them agreed they couldn’t think of anywhere better to hold their celebration than in the Marine and their chosen grooms would be Stephen Fry, Rowan Atkinson and “once bitten twice shy, no thank you very much”.
But with four of our local fire officers arriving earlier in the month to give a defibrillator debrief in the Marine bar, judging by the whoops of delight from certain corners of the room, I think there could well be a few other groom fantasies going on, (but the Marine is no stranger to love, there are many tales of wooing and courtship battles, ask Philip Evans).
We managed to spook a couple of the uniforms who evidently were unfamiliar with theatre life when howling wolves could be heard echoing around the theatre walls. It was just the Marine Players rehearsal for ‘A Tomb With a View’.
Talking of muscle, how many men does it take to dig a hole? In the good old days you’d have one leaning on a broom, another slurping from a large mug of builders’ tea, one giving advice and one digging. Now it’s one in a mini digger and three sending texts on their phones.
When the fabulous TIC ladies reported smelling gas, it took a couple of days before South West Utilities located the leak before digging up the corner of Church Street just three days before one of our weddings. But texts notwithstanding, the permanent reinstatement was done in time for the big day.
Our latest brochure is now distributed across the nation; our launch party was, as always, a very pleasant evening in the Marine bar with drinks, nibbles and good company. The VIP guest list varies each time and one of our patrons, Ian Gillan, couldn’t make it because he was on the European leg of his tour before heading to South Africa.
I have just about settled into my new office, I’ve come up with the snagging list including painting my window frame. You might think I’m going for something plain and sensible to reflect the calm and order that exists on my side of the theatre office door, continuing the no fuss plain white of the box office I can see through my new window.
You’d be wrong. Strawberry red with glitter is going to add a bit of bling to my working day. Just need a chintz throw, couple of scatter cushions and one of those tasselled light shades to finish it off.
I finally managed to get to the hairdresser in September. I know right, quite an achievement given the non-stop, full-on days we have at the Marine but any longer and I’d have been a dead ringer for Kate Bush when she was looking for her Heathcliff.
Anyway it’s my birthday this month, I have an empty vase sitting on my strawberry glittered window sill. So if anyone wants to come a-wooing with some flowers I promise to keep the wolves at bay and any dead bodies hidden backstage.