After we got kicked out of The Duke, well politely told by Victor that the beer garden was shutting and to please move inside, I was all set to walk home but Spencer, Skywalker and The French One had other plans. As we walked past The Enmore I wanted to explain to Spencer that I was tired and drunk and needed to go home but the only thing I could manage to say was 'I am too drunk to have this block of cheese in my handbag. Do you think it will be all right?' Spencer rarely looks baffled but he was approaching something quite like it as he enquired as to why I had a block of cheese in my handbag. I wanted to explain how the aging process of cheese effects lactose levels but all I could think of was that I had bought it at the same time as black shoelaces, a box of matches and a roll-on deodorant and that a very tall man had been in front of me in the queue for the checkout. Once I might have diligently explained all of these things but I have decided to cultivate an air of mystery.
It's been seven hours and sixteen days, since my bedroom light became possessed by a poltergeist. The light works when it wants to, flashes on and off when it wants to and sometimes doesn't work at all. I didn't really mind until I came home drunk with a block of cheese in my handbag and found myself undressing inside a surprise disco.
There were other strange parts to my day, free Grolsch at an art gallery, free review copy of Avatar, free chocolate sorbet in Newtown, spending five hours arranging and rearranging the articles for issue #1 of PAN magazine and of course being interviewed by a journalist for Cleo magazine. It can't all be just swanning around drunk with cheese.