Like moths to a flame

A couple of gentlemen wandered into our dance hall this week before class began, asking permission to cut through to get to the upper floor.

"No problem," says I, "but you'll need to be back through this door and away before 8 o'clock, because I'll have a hall full of women skipping around in their knickers in here from then on."

"Oooh," says a disembodied male voice from the corridor, "you had better not let the vicar hear that!"

And, lo and behold, the vicar (for it was he who had uttered these words) came through the door.

Now, loyal readers of this blog will know that we have previously had a "Showgirl and the Vicar" encounter of high farce in the last church hall that we used for the class. Purely coincidentally, I am sure, we were then asked to sling our hook from that hall and to grace it with our business no longer. Happily, in cheery contrast, this vicar shook me warmly by the paw,said he was entirely unbothered, and trotted off upstairs after his mates.

I thank the patron saint of showgirls that we had not already started our dance routine for the night. It's "Turn Back O Man", a jaunty little number from Godspell that includes the immortal line: "Come here, Jesus - I've got something to show you!"

Coincidentally, that's exactly what we were dancing the last time that we had the vicar round. I'm beginning to think that it's the routine itself that draws men of the cloth to our class like bears to honey.

It's a funny old world, isn't it?!

Yours, on our very best behaviour,

Burlicious x