The Festive Fiasco

Why is it so much darker in January than it is in December? I honestly think there’s some sort of conspiracy.

Dark nights in December are cosy and sparkly and full of anticipation. In January? Nah. I feel like a gloomy mole person, scurrying about in the never-ending night.

I’m now back in work, and ruminating on the happier, more joyful times of, erm, about two weeks ago.

Picture a crisp Winter’s evening, stars shimmering, Christmas lights reflected in (obviously altogether more festive) puddles… I had a brilliant evening in Manchester at the King Street Townhouse Hotel, which hosts a tiny cinema in its basement.

You get to relax in little armchairs, with a glass of champagne on arrival and possibly even popcorn. It was perfect for getting into the Christmas spirit, and what better film for that, than ‘The Grinch Who Stole Christmas’.

What better film indeed? Let’s backtrack to the start of the fiasco. We arrived only slightly late, with me cramming bratwurst into my mouth, oblivious to the mustard on my sleeve (did I mention I’m a classy date?!) and were told there was no reservation for us.

Luckily, hasty furniture rearrangement ensued, and I snagged a second glass of champers as my poor date had agreed to drive. Waste not, want not. Minor crisis averted, we quickly got ourselves settled, had a laugh about the fuss, and got ready to enjoy Jim Carrey in all his green, hairy glory. Only a little further confusion when the certificate came up, and it wasn’t ‘The Grinch’ at all. No Whos, Max or Grinch, No Whoville, a complete absence of Whobeast and Holiday Cheermeister. Oh no no, instead, it’s ‘Miracle on 34th Street’. We look around in confusion, but no one else seems perplexed, and it’s not even as though we could be in the wrong screen.

Yep, it would appear we’ve managed to not book, to see the wrong film. But I suppose I did discover a lovely, snug new place, and that girl from Matilda is pretty funny. My take away from this is: maybe January isn’t the all singing, all dancing feel-good-fest that December can be. But that doesn’t mean it has to be a complete miserable loss. I’m sure I at least have some fizz left in the fridge, and the daylight will be switched back on soon…won’t it?

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