Yesterday Martin and I went to see Skyfall the new Bond movie, which was excellent. Because I am such a fidget we always book tickets on the end of a row. So there we are row L, posh seats, on the end. Half way through the film I need a wee, I tip toe down the dark stairs of the packed cinema to the door, that’s strange I thought I don’t remember the door having a bar on it. I quietly opened the door, went outside (as I was now committed) and ended up in the car park, the door had closed behind me with no way of getting back in, I had gone through the fire door. I walked around the building back inside where I had a terrible fit of the giggles, the girl on the front desk asked for my ticket, I explained what had happened she looked at me like I was on a day out with care in the community. Thankfully she let me back in without my ticket.
When I sat down Martin asked where I had got to as I had been ages, I whispered I went through that door there, ‘idiot’ he said, ‘and you’re supposed to be psychic’, oh yes I said, but I never said I was any good!