All Talk and No Lights! Camera! Action!

Another meeting?  Flyte-Tipping is in AWE!  Where do these am-dram folk find the energy?  We discussed this during a rather pleasant half-hour dunking chocolate HobNobs over our keyboards.  We like to live dangerously.  Big Sue even more so because she favours

The dunking equivalent of base jumping.

"Didn't they have a meeting last week?"

"That was the week before.  And it was cancelled."  Big Sue, fishing around in her mug with a ruler.

"Why?"

"Due to an earlier meeting being inconclusive."

"So what's tomorrow's meeting about then?"

"The last one."

"The last one?"

"They're hoping to move it on."

A crumb wedged itself between the space bar and 'Alt Gr'.  I have no idea what 'Alt Gr' means.  Not the foggiest.  I would REALLY like it to stand for 'Altitude Growl' and for this very reason I am unable to press it,  for pressing it could only lead to certain disappointment, another wonder of the universe lost, another Tinkerbell snuffing it.  I cling to my preferred theory —  if you press it a bear comes parachuting out.

Bear Grylls aka Alt Grrr

"Have they decided on the next production?"

"Mmm?" Big Sue had moved on from the ruler, trawling her coffee with a popsock.

"The next production.  All up in the air, wasn't it?"

"Ah, yes.  Our Man In The Know informs me that it has most definitely been decided upon.  The whens, the wheres, the whyfore-arts."

"And?"

"Oh, it's been cancelled."

Big Sue looks up, her dragnetting temporarily suspended.  Seeing my confusion, she takes pity.

"Look, following a meeting there was a meeting to decide upon the production.  Then there was a meeting to discuss the results arising from a meeting in which a reading group met.  Only the reading group didn't meet, because the meeting they thought was for them to meet in was in fact meant for EVERYONE to meet in, but that was wrong because they hadn't had a meeting to decide on what the next meeting should be about.  So that meeting was cancelled because it wasn't meant for everyone.  So there was an informal meeting last week with a couple of committee members because they felt they wanted a meeting when they failed to meet when they should've met.  At that meeting it was decided that a formal meeting should be arranged for the following week, tomorrow."  She paused.  "What are you doing down there?"

Flashback,  like I was THERE, experiencing the primary school's  PTA AGM all over again.  (Sometimes the horror never leaves you.)

"Where do they find the stamina?"  I whimpered.   "They must mainline Berocca or something.  All that nominating and seconding.  It's gotta take it out of you.  I am so deeply, DEEPLY humbled by their dedication and drive.  I shall watch their production with new respect and far greater admiration than am-dram typically deserves."

"No you won't," said Big Sue, spooning a mouthful of biscuit sediment into her mouth on the end of a highlighter pen.

"I beg to differ, Big Sue.  These aren't mere mortals, these are am-dram POWER-HOUSES!  I've half a mind to fall on my knees before them and kiss each and every one of their committee-loving toes!"

"No, you won't be watching their production.  Remember?  It's been cancelled.  On account of running out of time.  Because of all the— "

"—meetings,"  I finish, sadly.