Welcome to the next thrilling instalment of my adventures in London with my glamourous sidekick, Keira Husky. You may like to familiarise yourselves with our railway journey (where we nearly got gassed to death on the tube) and our expedition across tower bridge (where we nearly got drowned to death my sea monsters). In summary, against all the odds, we had somehow made our way to the Design Museum in one piece...We were directed up toward the '1.5 gallery', where the photography exhibition was taking place. I'm not sure if that's pronounced the 'one point five gallery', the 'one and a half gallery', the 'three divided by two gallery' or what. But it's obviously very cool and sophisticated.
After being greeted by several ladies with clipboards who checked off our names in triplicate, we were offered a choice of drinks. Alas they had no Guinness or beer, so it was champagne for Keira and fruit juice for myself.
I was then taken over to where my picture was displayed and had my photograph taken with it by the official event photographer. For the first time in his career, he had encountered someone who blinked every single time he used his flash.
After the seventh failed attempt, we agreed that a higher ISO setting might have to be used instead of the flash. I was hoping that the extra grain this might bring to the image, may help hide the sweat and raindrops that were still nestling on my ample forehead. The dress code for the event was 'smart / casual', but at that point I was more 'clammy pile of shit'.
We were then asked to go around and vote for our favourite picture in each of the categories. Although this seemed straightforward enough, my admin assistant Keira Husky, found it more challenging than I had hoped. There was quite a bit of crossing out in order for our chosen photograph titles to actually end up in the right section of the voting slip. I now see why champagne is not available in office drinks machines.
One of the highlights of the night for me was that a string of attractive young waitresses (and one Korean dude) would come around with platefuls of unidentified, but very tasty, posh nosh. Suddenly, the whole concept of pretentious ponciness which once repulsed me, seemed bloody fantastic! Looking at nice pictures with a limitless supply of drink and tasty food, all whilst overlooking a beautiful part of London, was a wonderful way to spend one's time.
After doing some mingling, eating, sitting, drinking and more eating, I suddenly heard a very familiar voice. Had someone switched the radio on? No! Reggie Yates was actually in the room! He was looking very cool and dapper. Well almost. There was one exception to his attire that just didn't seem to fit in with the rest of his look - he was wearing slippers.
Now, as regular readers of my twitter feed will know, I recently bought a new pair of slippers myself and have really fallen in love with just how comfortable they are (non twitter folk, if hearing that you're missing out on that kind of insight into my life doesn't make you want to join up and follow me, I don't know what will). But really? Slippers? Smart / casual? This event wasn't like popping over the road for a paper and some milk.
What really completed this look was the fact that they had a skull and crossbones on. I would have loved some of these...when I was six! *bitch face*
So, despite that fact that he was wearing little boy slippers which, to my mind didn't really go with the rest of his look (bear in mind that I'm an avid viewer of Britain and Ireland's Next Top Model, so I think I know a little bit about style), the first thing I said to him when I had the chance was, "Hi Reggie, great to meet you. I LOVE your shoes!". Honestly, I can be so two faced.
Slippers aside, Reggie was an absolutely lovely guy. No doubt he was being paid to be there and mingle with us all, but he couldn't have been more friendly or patient. Keira and I had a really good chat with him and he seemed a genuinely decent chap. I would like to be his mate and hang out with him (especially when he goes shoe shopping - I could have helped him out there).
I felt bad that the other guests weren't having much of a chance to speak with her and eventually, when she had got in between me and the tasty food once too often, she was asked to leave. It was horrible to see her cry like that, but it was for the best - if we were together, it would only have been a matter of time before she introduced me to the other members of Girls Aloud and, unless she was willing to share me, her heart would have gone through even more pain.
As the evening went on and the champagne flowed, the occasion grew louder and louder. Keira was kindly drinking my share of the fizz (and also that of the twelve guests who hadn't been able to make it). There was a really nice atmosphere and it was a great experience to be able to chat to the other entrants who were refreshingly normal.
My previous experience that people from the north of England and most of Wales are the friendliest in the country, was proved once again, although Keira and I did our bit as ambassadors for the south. In fact, one of the Welsh guys there was especially friendly towards Keira and would have been that extra special kind of friendly given half a chance. Luckily having spent too much time hanging around with me, she's fairly used to batting away unwanted male attention and managed to escape unscathed.
The only downside of the night (aside from them not serving Guinness) was that we were desperately missing the third member of our Terrific Trio, Jessington Cupcake. Despite my best efforts at wangling a plus two, she gracefully stepped aside to let Keira enjoy the day. We both resolved that we would visit London again soon, but this time with Jess firmly in tow. Plus, Ms Cupcake also gets the consolation prize of an all expenses paid lunch (up to the value of £15, terms and conditions apply, no cash equivalent shall be given) with me.
At twenty minutes past the time that the event should have closed, they started to turn the lights out and a few minutes after that, actually booted us back down the stairs. It had been an amazing evening and the four and a bit hours we'd been there had flown by.
Thankfully, London is full of weirdos on a Friday night who responded to this quite well and took her in as one of their own.
On one occasion I had to restrain her from approaching a gang of feral looking youths with caps on at jaunty angles, which thankfully she thought better of. The only other restraint I urged her to show was when we were passing a fresh faced young policeman. Although that encounter passed off peacefully, she did manage to blurt out, "What are you, 12?" as we passed by.
Whilst we waited for Tower Bridge to return to its flaccid state after having been raised, I noticed that there were round floodlights set into the pavement which were shining brightly. But then I wondered, whether these may actually be teleport pads to get us across to the other side whilst the bridge wasn't available. I stood on one to try it out and even made teleport noises, but unfortunately, it appears that it was just a spotlight after all (unless it was faulty I suppose). I don't even have champagne to blame for this incident, although I guess I had been passively drinking Keira's all night.
One of my long standing memories of this night will be Keira stood by the automatic barriers at Waterloo underground station, waving her crumpled ticket in the air, saying "I need assistance!". It would seem that she wasn't the only one affected by the fizz and her ticket was too far over the limit to be of use any longer.
Thankfully the train back to Salisbury was far quieter than the one we had arrived on. The only incident of note was when a young couple started canoodling. The woman was being cradled in this guy’s arms like a baby. Then they started kissing. But wait, what’s going on? That’s not kissing. He’s actually sucking on her nose. Her nose! I nearly called the guard to stop such peculiarity, but they soon got off (the train, not the other way, at least so far as I could tell).
For the remainder of the journey home, we reminisced and laughed together about the evening we had just experienced, both unable to put into words quite how much we had enjoyed it. Despite having been on my best behaviour for most of the day, my mischievous (or 'dickish' side) did rear its cheeky head as I found myself hiding Keira's purse whilst she slept. I still don’t think she’s noticed the £20 that’s missing.
What a wonderful experience and treasured memory! :-)
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