Thursday night’s golf dinner was one of the funniest evenings I can remember. There was wine… much wine… pink wine… and dancing. The excellent Elvis kept us amused all night – so much so that I didn’t even notice a cheeky man stealing lemon tart of my plate and eating my chocolate. Deedub thinks it wasn’t the real Elvis, but I’m not sure, he definitely sounded very authentic and had that hip thing going on. There was a lot of laughing that night with cake lady. Now I’m not saying that we misbehaved; being the only two invited women in a room of 80 men we had a certain dignity to maintain. So it was strange that, as a function hall full of carpet fitters danced in a circle, we seemed to be prancing about in the middle. How did that happen? At least if I ever get fed up of running my training business there’s the possibility of a career in professional golf-dinner-entertainment! (I just read that back, and I didn’t quite mean it as it sounds!!)
I’m really not the lush some of you seem to think, but I did have a super meeting with a wine merchant on Monday. Hottest day of the year, and the underground was heaving with pre-Olympic fever. I’m rushing around so much of the time it was lovely to just sit quietly in the Covent Garden sunshine, perched on the edge of the pavement not thinking, not talking, half listening to the strains of summer jazz swirling out from the piazza, soaking up the atmosphere. I met Bill an hour later in an underground bar, cosily tucked away in a vaulted, candlelit cellar – cool, quiet yet only ten paces from the hustle and bustle above. We sat for an hour sipping orange juice (not wine!) and chatting about the benefits of social media on the wine tours industry.
My relationship with Covent Garden goes way back. Wandering along Long Acre always reminds me of the days when the Covent Garden General Store occupied the spot now housing M&S. Maz and I spent fortunes in there – she still has her strawberry PVC bag and I think my mum has mine; the story of those bags is far too naughty to tell, but Marion is smiling as she reads this. That was also my first dalliance with vegetarian food… How that restaurant sucked!! In those days I didn’t even know what vegetarian meant, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a red meat girl (medium rare please) – but back then I endured plates full of tofu and lentils, conforming to the expectations placed on an 80s west end girl at that time.
Cake lady might not remember everything about Thursday night, but this is what we were dancin’ to (and singin’ and movin’ to the groovin’): I tried to understand this, I thought that they were out of their minds. How could I be so foolish, to not see I was the one behind?
If I’m behind, I must be following you… Follow me back @WeekendWitch