The first was an intermission. They just stopped the film half way through, and 'Intermission' flashed up on the screen. We were all bemused. There was no warning and we had no idea how long it was to be.
I took advantage of the unnatural break to have a natural one...the scene of my next new experience.
I lazily wandered in and halted abruptly as I almost bumped into a young lady. I hastily beat a retreat to scrutinize the sign on the door before re-entering. Sure enough, it was a female.
I was about to doubt the sign on the door that I had only just checked, but was put at ease when I caught sight of the urinals. I waited discreetly while she dried her hands and left without saying a word, but with the slightest glance of acknowledgement as I stood rooted and staring like a fool.
I nervously glanced around to check on other possible shocks before having the confidence to continue. It was a relief (lol) to get back to my seat and enjoy the rest of the film.
I must be a creature of habit as I'm slightly fazed when there are changes to the norm. It must be an age thing.
Definition of fazed...To disrupt the composure of; disconcert.
I'm fazed by last minute changes, loud women, irate dogs, running out of shaving blades, speaking in public, confrontation, being misunderstood, under-performing football teams, overpaid politicians, greed, violence, thunder storms and even love.
This list can easily quadruple yet I consider myself faily well-balanced, stable, composed and relatively unfazed.
Right at this moment we are having thunder storms (the sky was clear blue when I arrived for work) and it reminds me a little of 1962. I love thunder storms...especially violent ones.
I was at boarding school at the time and the storms started around midnight. It was really exciting and we couldn't sleep if we tried. One of the windows in the dormitory was open but we wouldn't dare close it for fear of being struck by lightning. The storm increased in violence and around 5:00am we heard the most unbelievable crack. The house master came to check on us and closed the window.
The 'crack' turned out to be our 'sausage tree', so named because of it's long, low-lying main branch. We used this tree as a climbing circuit and initiation ceremony for the youngsters. It was the most popular tree in any of the three woods that surrounded the school.
It had been ripped and stripped and lay blackened in huge pieces. Some boys even cried. I'm not sure if Hawkins did...he was the champion climber and had devised the circuit.
The skies are clear again and I'm back home.
The mousaka was supurb and we are now going for a walk along the river.
On the way back from the walk. Our little castle...
A pleasant and peaceful end to the evening.