The Deaf Institute (unsatisfactory)

No one likes a neggy post, do they? (SPOILER: neggy post follows).

I mean, I love the Deaf Institute and I love meeting up with my kids but this evening was spoilt by.... music. 

I'd been looking forward to this evening a lot. It has been a ridiculously hectic fortnight, and the point at which I met Abi and Dan off the train at Piccadilly officially marked the end of a whole load of arrangements. We were going to have a meal at Deaf with the Minx, miniMinx, Charlie, and Hannah, and then the kids would go up to watch The Academic while everyone over 21 stayed in the bar. Perfect.

Well, that bit all went OK and the evening ahead promised much: it was 'Spoti-Friday', where we could make requests to the DJ, who, we later discovered, goes by the nom de plaque tournante of 'Dance Savage'.

lol

It turned out that he didn't have any of our requests - or, presumably, access to Spotify - so instead we had to endure an uninspiring melange of R&B, a little (lame) hip-hop, and, criminally, a cover of Toto's 'Africa' (FOR FUCK'S ACTUAL SAKE). I'm sad to say that he, Dance Savage, spoilt my evening.

But that's not to say that our time there was without incident, as we were able to watch the incredible bouncing of the ceiling as the kids enjoyed the band upstairs. It was actually quite alarming, despite the fact that we weren't directly underneath it. 

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Reading: 'Reality Is Not What It Seems'