A night for the regulars (and the people who bring them)
Once a season we hold an evening for the regulars, and anyone they care to bring. It's the nearest thing we have to a family dinner, and I'd like to tell you how it went last time.
Bring a friend, bring a story
The idea's simple. The regulars each get to invite one person who's never been, and the kitchen cooks a long table dinner for all of them. After that, the long room opens, and the regulars become unofficial teachers, which they take far more seriously than they'd admit.
This time, there were thirty-one of us. Glenn Fraser made a scallop pie big enough to need two people to carry it, Christine Hughes ran the booth like a ticket office on opening night, and Adam McDonald somehow dealt to three tables at once.
How it went
Dinner at the long table
Everyone sat where they liked, which meant the newcomers ended up in the middle, surrounded by regulars competing to recommend dishes. By the time the honey pudding arrived, people who'd met an hour earlier were arguing happily about the best way to eat it.
Up the slope
Afterwards we wandered into the long room, and the lessons began. One regular took three newcomers to a blackjack table and talked them through every hand like a patient football coach. Another stood at the roulette wheel explaining the layout with a teacup for a pointer.
The unofficial quiz
At the end there was a small quiz about the building, which Angus Crawford had written and enjoyed far more than anyone else. The best team got a round of applause and, naturally, a name on a scrap of paper pinned beside the honour board.
What we learned
That the regulars are the best advertisement we have, and that nobody should be allowed to organise a quiz after a big dinner. We'll hold the next one early, before the pudding.
If you'd like to come to the next club night, ask a regular to bring you, or ask Christine if she can find you a friend. Everyone's welcome as long as they're 18 or over.
One of the newcomers, a retired farmer who'd been brought along by his daughter, announced at the end of the evening that he hadn't enjoyed himself so much since the pictures. He meant the building, not the film. We've kept his quote, with permission, in the booth.