Stiletto Biatch

On October 8, 2015February 25, 2016 By Conversations with StrangersIn Life, London, Parties1 Comment

I’m not prone to swearing. In fact it takes a lot to get me up there with the best of them. Notice I’m even unable to say the ‘B’ word as it should be said, but rather a variation of it. However, I suspect another couple of days of this pain will result in me screaming it from the rooftops.

“You don’t like being ‘off games’ do you S?” my companion from the scene of the crime remarked over the telephone. I reached down towards my left foot, adjusting the pink sock ice pack so delicately placed for maximum coverage. I wondered where I could get an ice pick to make smaller pieces – heart shaped ice cubes are really not the best.
“No T, I do not” I replied.

The night had started innocently but stridently enough. Schmancy party-heeled clad, T App’d a black cab. We hopped in as he and Dave began the banter that saw the meter still ‘off’ until half way there. T pointed it out to him, We watched as he reached up to click the switch, still laughing: “Sorry about that guv” he said, “I just got lost in the moment!”

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The heart of the matter

On October 1, 2015February 25, 2016 By Conversations with StrangersIn Entertainment, London, PartiesLeave a comment

Sometimes in London one wonders where the heart is, where it’s gone, what happened to it? After a particularly hectic big smoke day I headed out to the Natural History Museum to accompany my starry cousin as her plus one at the European Diversity Awards.

Wandering inside to join dinosaurs and all things crusty, I wondered if everyone else felt as I did – ready to slump in the first available chair. Sort of, one’s arrived, now one can rest up, take a chill pill and just hang.

Of course it’s never like that at a black tie awards event. Usually there are meets and greets required, handshakes and schmoozing, congratulatory kisses. It’s impossible to relax.

But, tonight was different. Really different. Celebrating diversity in all its forms, Sandi Toksvig reminded us that on the very ceiling we craned our necks to check out were images of plants from all over the world – a diverse selection. She also reminded us that the dinosaur we sat beside at white rose and hydrangea decorated tables was unidentifiable as a male or female. Why? Because apparently the genitalia disappear over time making it impossible to tell.

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Dinner at the theatre

On June 21, 2015February 25, 2016 By Conversations with StrangersIn Food and drinks, LondonLeave a comment

“I’m going to seat you up at the bar” the manager said when I booked Bocca di Lupo. “I think you’ll like it, you’re overlooking the kitchen and there’s always a bit of drama going on.”

A and I met at 8pm and took our places. High stools at a high bar in front of which we could see grills, deep fat fryers, cooking on gas and four intensely focused chefs. One in particular caught my eye. He never looked up not even when he was called to produce another rack of lamb and mountain of rocket. Just a ‘Yes Chef!’ and the sound of a hatchet striking bone followed.

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Ain’t no party like a Party party

On May 9, 2015February 25, 2016 By Conversations with StrangersIn Entertainment, Life, London, People you may have heard ofLeave a comment

“I’m not sure why we’re looking at a film of sharks and bottom feeders, are you?” I said to my new friend Nelson as we sunk further into a comfy padded leather sofa at the National Liberal Club. “I mean what’s this got to do with the General Election?”

Nelson nodded sagely. “Well, don’t you see, that’s exactly the point? Someone was told he had to work this evening and obviously went on YouTube, cobbled together three hours of this stuff for us to watch. It’s some sort of divine retribution. Let’s face it you don’t normally see just sharks and bottom feeders on a nature programme with no commentary whatsoever.”

I had to admit he was right, and it got me thinking. What was it all about?

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Three male models and a plate of rissoles please

On May 1, 2015February 25, 2016 By Conversations with StrangersIn Life, London1 Comment

“I’m going to be late!” I cried to my imminently world-famous star of an actor cousin. “Plus there’s no way I should have had a couple of glasses of bubbly, I won’t be able to concentrate.”

“It’s philosophy cuz” she replied, “It’s exactly what’s required.”

A hurried run/walk had me arriving at a salubrious establishment in London W1, as composed as I could be to a packed room of fellow philosophers, some 15 minutes late.

“Welcome” said Lawrence, smiling benignly. “Find a seat!”

I glanced around at a diverse population of London’s most curious.

Turning to place my jacket on the back of my chair, I felt I was being stared at. I looked up to encounter two of the most handsomest – and beardless – men I’d seen in quite some time perusing me: About 25 years a piece and surely on the cover of L’Uomo Vogue this month.

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