I hadn't seen the play before, or even read it. It's not on the standard curriculum, and while I've read plenty of Shakespeare that wasn't, I'd managed to miss this one. How, I don't know, because it was a good one. Sir's role was one of the better Shakespeare's clowns, and it suited him perfectly. He pretty much played it as Del-Boy in tights. Well, Del-Boy in a purple bellhop suit, red shoes and a fez, which doesn't sound the same, does it? Sir was, of course, fantastic.

He's already decided not to be in the next one, which is a musical, for a variety of personal reasons. Chief among them, I assume, is that the rehearsal schedule doesn't leave a lot of time for Looove. Sir and his girlfriend are still together, and they both seem pretty darn happy, which is nice. In fact, I think I need to give her a name. Let's go for Lady Jane.

They were both over here on Saturday, but not to eat. They had gone out to eat lunch at a very swanky restaurant, as it was Lady Jane's twenty first birthday. Twenty One! We had no idea she was that young, not even Miss Kitty, who has known her for several years. It's not that Sir is that much older than her (he's not, really, or at least not enough to matter much), or that she looks a lot older than she is (between 21 and 25, I find it really hard to tell). It's her personality, I guess you could say. She has confidence and self possession in spades. I wonder if she'd lend me some?

Miss Kitty, on the other hand, has seen the light and has decided to give Lover Boy a miss. So she hasn't called him, and he hasn't called her, and when we ran into him at the Early Morning Bar, she said one, polite "Hello" and proceeded to ignore him the rest of the night... er, morning. She wanted to make sure not to get his hopes up or send anything that could be construed as a mixed signal.

We confirmed one thing that night: Late Night Bar really does have the most flattering lighting in the world. Of course, the fact that LB had actually washed his hair in the recent past helped, too. But she stuck to her guns. LB, on the other hand, stuck to her. He spent the whole time lurking in what ever corner was closest to Miss Kitty, looking lovesick and mournful. It was pretty clear he wanted to have a talk. Or something. Finally, LB seemed to have given up. He paid his bill and put on his coat. The crowds rejoiced-- or at least our crowd did. He was giving us the creeps, what with all that lurking and staring. But no, it was not to be, because he resumed his position in the corner. After half an hour, he went to sit with a couple of friends. Well, I would assume they are. He started talking lovesickly and mournfully and urgently to them. Every so often, the entire table would turn and look at us. After a while of this, the male wandered off, but the woman remained, her eyes slowly glazing over.

I felt for her. Really I did. I've been there, honey.

Finally, an hour and a half after he put on his coat-- yes, I did time it-- LB left. We walked her home en masse, keeping a careful lookout for lovesick portuguese men. Thankfully, there were none. Poor old Lover Boy hasn't been seen since. I'm sure he'll get over it.

Pooka Boy is still pining for his Portuguese Sweetie. When we go out in a group, he flirts so hard I'm sure he'll strain something one day. It's painful to watch, really, and it's making her nervous, I think. Her boyfriend broke up with her. PB, I would imagine, thinks he's in with a chance. If so, it's because he hasn't heard why he did so. It's a rather sordid little mess involving sex and a married man, and Sweetie, I'm told, feels rather guilty and conflicted about it. But not, I've also been told, enough to put an end to it.

Lady Jane, interestingly enough, has also complained (completely out of the blue) about the same woman hanging all over Sir when she thinks Lady Jane isn't around or watching. She has nothing to worry about, and I told her so. Sir is crazy about Lady Jane, and that's a fact. Lady Jane, as I think I've mentioned, is gorgeous. Also smart and funny, to the extent that I'd be tempted to hate her if she wasn't so damn nice. Also, I can't imagine any rational man preferring Sweetie to Lady Jane.