Stand up, you lot, eh?! ..

The auditorium is buzzin', nearly full. Soul music from the eighties blaring loudly, a taster of the exciting evening ahead. As we thought, lots of Tina Turner wigs and hidden bottles of booze in handbags. Good luck to them, l say. It's a fiver a pop for a daft glass o' Pino Grigio. Anyway ..

Right. Walkie-talkie back to stage manager that all's well out front of house. Let's get this show on the road.

The curtain rises to a stunning looking statuesque woman, that hairstyle, legs and stilettos. A shimmering scarlet gown, skin tight, split up to the thigh. Well, it IS The Tina Turner story.

Honky Tonk Woman. I Can't Stand the Rain. Steamy Windows. Simply The Best. Nutbush City Limits. The band are note perfect. The Ikettes dance their socks off. Tina is doing that stuff that Beyonce etc copies, you know, the body poppin', shimmy shimmy malarkey. It's incredible to watch even if you're not a fan, as the energy and dedication of these performers is intoxicating.

However, we happen to be in Edinburgh, and nobody moves a muscle in this city! Oh if someone is pissed they will stand up but shuffle-to-the-aisles-incase-they-annoy-angryman-sittin'-behind-them.

Imagine putting your heart and soul for two hours into a show, and looking out from the stage to see the audience sittin' on their arses all night. Must be soul destroying.

Glasgow is a different story altogether. They'd be up from the get-go. Definately not here though. Ooooh nooooo. Scared to make a fool of themselves. Not me!

Standin' at the back of the stalls, me and my two colleagues are jumpin' and dancin' and singin' at the top of our voices! What a fabulous show, a wonderful night.

Out they go. Complaints left hanging in the air as they pass by while l hold the big, heavy fire doors open. 'Good night. Hope you enjoyed the show'.

It was too loud. Too long. Place freezin'. Place boilin'. Ice cream too dear. Dinny like the seats. No' enough toilets. No' long enough. ' Tha' wiz craaap. She wisnay the same as tha' Tina Turnur wummin', ae no'.

Tidy up the mess left. Bottles. Glasses. Bits of lost propery.

We all gather for the managers final comments and head off home/to the pub.

Do it all again tomorrow.

Night Night ..