In all, it was.
Got to work Friday morning at 10.
Missed the train I wanted to get.
I get on the DLR and head on off to Stratford.
Left Paul’s house, having had to shake him awake with a “You need to be at work by 8:30”. We leave his house at 8:05. He doesn’t make it to work on time.
Paul fell asleep in the back of the taxi. The driver was like “where do you want to stop?”… I had no idea and I had to physically pull Paul up out of his seat to agree that where we were was good enough.
Sat outside Baker St Station whilst Paul slept til he was a bit more sensible. We eventually got a taxi to take us back to A Road In The Docklands.
A group of 10 of us went back to Sally’s flat tp drink champage and eat the world’s smallest “large” pizzas. I got to dance with Sal. She liked me. It would seem. I have a “good arse”. It would seem.
At the aftershow, I skillfully ignored: Billy Bragg, Stelios and many Radio 2 DJs. Including the Gambachini. And Alan Yentob. But I did speak to a man called Lewis who is rather important, it would seem. Didn’t stop me using sweary words in his presence though.
At the start of the performance, when it’s broadcast next Saturday, you may hear me yell “Come on!” in an over-the-top kind of way.
A quick, expensive taxi ride and we were in the venue by 7:55. No entry after 8pm.
We picked up the aftershow tickets from a ginger DJ’s producer, whilst the ginger one cowered in a restaurant. We’d been hunting them down since 7:15 when we were sat outside Liverpool St Station. We then had to leg it to Gt Portland St, go to R2, R1, a random pub, and then find this restaurant where Helen the producer (with whom the DJ is, er, “involved”) handed over an envelope.
Paul arrives and spends a lot of the time between 4pm and 7pm negotiating with various people for yet more tickets and aftershow party wristbands whilst we drink copious amounts of beer.
I meet my old IBM manager, Maf, for a quick lunchtime drink at 2:30pm. We don’t stop lunchtime until 6:45.