Much pain

An eagerly anticipated event - dance! At Dancebase. The SK states that she hates dance, which seems an unnecessarily dogmatic stance to adopt. We’re only there as one of our friends is a participant (*warning bells*) and had arranged to meet us, post show, darling. I’ve got to say that some of it is quite decent.
The SK doesn’t waver. Awful, she says. Dreadful. I am never coming back here. Ever.
Just prior to the show, said participant had got back to us to say she doubted we could meet up as some very dear old friends who she hadn’t seen for ages had unexpectedly arrived.
No, problem, the SK sweetly texted back through gritted errrrr fingernails.
Onward to Summerhall to see the visual art stuff and some of it is very good indeed. Particularly Jane Frere’s 100 days of Khaos about Brexit and political discourse.
Then the heavens really opened. We waited for A&L under a canopy in the courtyard as the thunder rolled and water sluiced down. They were running late. Eventually they texted they’d arrived. No sign of them. They had gone to the Pleasance. Groan.
To the final show - Richard Gadd, a young Scottish guy who had won the comedy award a couple of years back. This was one of those shows that becomes less impressive with elapsed time.
Still, there was the Diggers, and begob, as the buses were running late, a swifty in the Black Rose. Heavy metal karaoke! What not to like?