Tuesday, October 03, 2006

And yet I don't seem to have qualms about sharing this with the internet

And yet I don't seem to have qualms about sharing this with the internet

I've watched half of How Many Miles to Basra?, served coffee, been on a teacup run for one of the conference groups and perspired a significant amount of my body weight in the ice cream room. The remaining attendants have gone on an expedition to the Green Room in search of pre-packaged food with lots of e-numbers and I've settled down with The Time Traveller's Wife*. Which, in case I don't get round to noting at some other point, I adore. Even if I suspect that it will make me cry.

The next thing I hear is my name being called. I look up and poking their heads over the banister are D and J.

I do a quick assessment of the situation. I left D on his way to meet J at 5:30. That's four hours ago. And I know that cocktail happy hour at the Slug ends at 8.00. This could be a good or a bad thing.

"We've just worked out how many cocktails D's had"

D smiles and holds up both hands.


D nods, smirking like he's 8 years old and has just put a slug down my back. At this I don't know whether to be gripped by amusement or terror. To avoid having to come down on either side of the fence I move so we can go sit in the bar. Because drunken people belong there. They do not belong on plush red sofas in the midst of a coffee shop.

D's giggly and talking with his hands. Lots. But I need to get something sorted first.

"Are you going to lie on the floor?"

D looks at me like I've asked if he's going to go drown puppies.


"Just the last time I saw you this drunk - I was talking to you and then the next minute you were unconcious on the sofa" I do not add "and you told C that I'd loved him from the moment I first saw him".

J laughs and D giggles at the flash of recognition. Someone in the bar has decided to switch the music on.

"Is this the Beatles?"

"No - it's The Kinks"

"Ah, they're all dead"

"Who are?"

"The Beatles" D asserts with a face saying that he's stating the blindingly obvious.

"No they're not"

"And this isn't the Beatles"

"How many of them are dead?"

"Of The Beatles? Two"

"And this is?"

J and I look at each other.

"The Kinks"

"But they're a new band"

There's a brief second before the penny drops. One of our favourite (blood) sports whilst in the Slug is to get D to name the band playing. At its best this involves him flinging out name after name of bands who don't quite exist. And I know it's mocking the afflicted but I can't help it.

"No, that's The Zooks, friends of The Kutons, this is The Zinks".

We all laugh.

"It's just too easy to make fun of you when you're drunk"

We carry on in this manner for a few minutes, D elaborating on why 'Vitamin C' would be a good name for a band, something which J and I don't really buy into, until the talk turns to fame.

"You know the wrap party where - if I hadn't been drunk - I could have slept with [Famous Actor's Son]"

It's mean but I can't help it. "As opposed to all those other wrap parties where you couldn't?"

"Well yes, that's my claim to fame"

J looks at him. "Your claim to fame is that you could have slept with [FAS]?"


J and I exchange looks. "Good claim to fame"

"As opposed to Corinne's claim to fame being that she slept with one of his friends and [FAS] asked her if she wanted a threesome"**

In one sentence it's as if the world's stopped. There's no longer any music. It's totally silent. And there is nothing but D's voice which seems to be breaking all volume records.

"Thank you"

"Ah, we already knew"

"Yes but I think it might come as a surprise to the bar staff, not to mention everyone in the Duty Manager's office oh, and the 720 people in the theatre to see Mockingbird"

D starts to giggle and I wonder what Outer Mongolia's like at this time of year.

* Bought in a 3-for-2 extravaganza after reading how much Billygean loved it.

** This is obviously hugely out of context but is I guess how the story would be sold to the News of the World.


cat said...

So, me telling you that The Time Traveller’s Wife made me cry so hard that I gave myself a headache wasn’t sufficient recommendation? Charming. Anyone would think I made unsuitable recommendations, is it my fault that some people just don’t appreciate Angela Carter? This is like Nik, Jo Wiley and the Pipettes all over again!

Nik said...

Worryingly I had the same thought re: Jo and the Pipettes when I started reading your comment. And I still maintain I only listened because you said they were good.