Saturday night. I set out with the best of intentions. Lorraine is directing and various others whom I might be so bold as to call good friends were starring in her latest play, An Experiment with an Airpump. So I intended, planned, reserved tickets to go along and see this. But the gods were not sympathetic. I made the mistake of enjoying a little pre-theatre nourishment with The Kindest Man In The World. Everything was going swimmingly initially. The sun set gently, picturesquely over Edinburgh. The sauvignon blan... was delicious. The walnut bread plus two fine courses. Yum. But then the restaurant started filling up. The coffees were sluggish. The bill was more so. We rushed off with vigour and verve to the theatre with not quite enough time to spare. And lo! Arrived a moment too late. Our tardily unclaimed tickets had been (entirely reasonably) sold on to another, more respectful pair of theatre-goers. I cursed. And cursed more later on once we'd sat / intermittently napped through an ambitious but ultimately unsatisfactory popcorn movie. The Lincoln Lawyer. I entreat you not to see it. You won't be disappointed. I, on the other hand, was. Disappointed that carelessness meant I had to substitute the Airpump for a film that was plump with hot air. There's a lesson to be learnt there somewhere. Don't eat and theatre go. Or something.