I HADN’T realised my life was so funny until I emerged from the City Hall with tears of laughter still in my eyes after watching the Grumpy Old Women on Friday.
Fifty Shades of Beige was the perfect girls’ (of a certain age) night out.
If you were looking for subtlety you’d have come away disappointed.
Well actually, you’d never have gone in the first place, would you?
The subject matter was predictable, though never crude, the jokes and the belly laughs came fast and furious and the rapport between Jenny Eclair, Susie Blake and Kate Robbins made their enthusiasm infectious.
The joy of big knickers, a master class in nagging, the rules of middle-aged drinking, some decidedly unsuitable dancing routines (though you could see Robbins is a natural dancer, really), and (Robbins again), a Jeremy Kyle take-off were just a few of the high spots.
There was a joke about how we memorise our mobile phone numbers and can’t recognise them in any other rhythm that had me exclaiming: “That’s me!”
What I loved was that there was none of that testosteronefuelled one-upmanship, often crossing the line into cruelty and downright nastiness, that characterises much of today’s panel game-based TV comedy There were a few brave men in the audience, and I have to say they seemed to be enjoying themselves, too.
But like most people there, I went with a gang of girlfriends.
One of them told us that her husband, on being told that she was going to see the Grumpy Old Women, genuinely thought she was fondly referring to our little group. Which says it all really, doesn’t it?