The Bodyguard and The Savoy


My Saturday night was shaping up to involve a sofa and a TV, until Tiff texted to ask if I fancied going to watch The Bodyguard. Why not, I thought, better than the sofa. As it turned out a whole bunch better than the sofa.

An hour later I’m stood in covent garden having a glass of cold crisp white wine on one of the hottest days of the year, with Tiff, two of her friends and four guys they’d been chatting to for a while. An hour later, we’re sat in The Savoy enjoying a beautiful bottle of fucking expensive wine. Then after a quick pit stop at Pret (!) we’re pre-ordering our interval drinks and taking our seats three rows from the front.

From the first bang of the gun, to the final curtain call, standing, dancing and singing, I’m hooked, I’m enthralled, it’s brilliant, utterly brilliant. I’m not sure I’ve seen a better show in a very very long time, if ever. Alexandra Burke is magnificent.

What a Saturday night!

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