Goodbye Mark (again)
Things got very messy last night. They almost got messier around 3am as I sat in the bathroom wondering whether or not it would be a good time to be sick.
It was Mark’s leaving do - the second of his I’ve attended in the last year - so we all bundled down to La Perla on Charlotte Street where it was buy one get one free at the bar. The sensible thing to do, of course, would have been to have ordered half as many as we wanted, and then share them around, but being stupid (and perhaps a bit ambitious), we kept on putting in the same round again and again and again and in no time at all I was practically on the floor (lack of food is my excuse).
It was a fantastic turn-out. About the only person missing was Spencer, and that’s because he was on holiday. By seven it had turned into something of a PCW reunion, with me, Emilie Ems, Kathryn, Debbie, Rory, Will, Jason and Mark representing something like six generations of staff changes, all with a greater or lesser degree of overlap.
I don’t quite know where all the time went. Or who half of the people were, actually, but there is a batch of semi-incriminating pictures, and a few rapidly fading semi-incriminating memories of saying and doing stupid things.
Oh, and Jason asked me to make up libellous things about him arriving with a huge bag of smack, and make sure I pointed out he was from T3 so that his editor would notice. So, consider that job done.
Will, who I now realise I’ve forgotten to email as I’d promised, told me all about his forthcoming wedding at the top of the hill in Lincoln. I’ve agreed to be one half of the two-man filming team with Gordon, so will have to make sure I’m fully charged by November.
Having hugged just about everyone in the room, though, I finally staggered out with Kathryn and Sophie Red Bull at some time, and remember having a fairly random conversation with some girls on Oxford Street, commenting on the fact they were northern and then being paranoid that I’d offended them, so explained that I ‘worked with some northern people.’
Kathryn dragged me away before things got nasty and I went home to feel sick.
I do remember practicing my Spanish out loud for most of the journey, which might have been annoying.
Tomorrow: Faro. For the next two weeks, updates may be a little thin on the ground.
If you liked that post, then try these...
Admiring the work of a genius on November 14th, 2001
Things best forgotten on February 6th, 2002
Observe, Mr Bond: the instruments of armageddon on November 30th, 2003
Two days on February 13th, 2003
YO! Go! Away! on December 11th, 2001