Monday, March 31, 2003
Is That All There Is?
And so the non-break in Berlin finally comes to a close, and I take stock of all those things I have achieved in my enforced stay in London.
Bottles of fine red wine consumed: Nine. Not counting a couple of dodgy Australians from Sainsbury's. And not all by myself, I hasten to add.
Restaurant meals: Only one, but this at Mister Kong's on Lisle Street, a shabby Chinese on three floors. I recommend it unreservedly, on one condition: only order from the Chef's Specials. Leave the set-menu to people who really do not know any better. (Oh, and try not to have to visit the loos.)
Party invites received: One. To be held at the Hertfordshire home of a rather famous lady pop-star from the Eighties. Oh, exclusivity, sweeties, exclusivity!
Progress made in Tasteful Interior Decoration: Zebra skin purchased.
New Friendships Cemented: Unless you count a fumbled drunken snog in the Edward in Islington on Sunday night, zilch.
Enemies Made: Just Alberto. And maybe Sabine. I'll let you know.
Joni Mitchell CDs purchased: Nine. This is due to my discovery in Covent Garden of the only London branch of Fopp. This is an evil record store, staffed with thoroughly pleasant assistants, where a CD of your favourite vinyl usually flogs for 5GBP. As I say, it is a totally evil place, and you should never cross its threshold, at least not until I have stocked up on my Patti Smith collection.
Clinique Items purchased: Three. M-Lotion. Scruffing Lotion 3½ strength. Total Turnaround. Call me a cliché and I sue.
Number of bars on Old Compton Street and surrounding areas which I sneered at and described as places I wouldn't be seen dead in: Ten.
Number of bars on Old Compton Street and surrounding areas which I actually visited: Nine.
(Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologise for this interruption to your regular blogging updates. (Ab)Normal Service will be resumed tomorrow.)