Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Jeudi


From time to time a day comes along that you expect to be standard and then it is all loveliness.

The other Tuesday I realised that the voucher I had for for a teapot of cocktails at a South London speakeasy ran out on the Sunday. And there was no way I was traipsing in to to Town on a Sunday. As if the Gods were smiling on me MonsieurB was venturing to the Smoke on the Thursday. It was decided. He would come with me for cocktails out of teapots and he'd enjoy it. God damn it.

Upon arriving at Waterloo MonsieurB had arranged a brass band in my honour. It seemed rude not to dance through the concourse in appreciation of his efforts. (The first sentence is a lie. The second sentence is not). Having tangoed to the underground we made our way to South Kensington. We hit Lamborghini but none of the cars took our fancy so we made our way to Sloane Street for secret speakeasy shenanigans. As we made our way down the road we passed The Conran Shop. In the window was a full on Swan Lake type ballerina who was dancing around. As soon as she saw us she did a wave. And then I did a wave. And then the posh lady opened the door for us to come in. And we continued walking because we are very, very poor.

We went in to an innocuous apartment block and found a black door with a large lantern outside. In we slid and rang the bell. A pair of eyes looked through the door. Saying the magic words ("We have a reservation") in we went.

Once we had our fricking massive teapot of cocktails it was present time. I love presents for no reason. Whilst wasting time MonsieurB had gone to Lucy In Disguise. I love Lily Allen. I think if we met in real life we'd be best friends. But we have never met in real life. And so we are not. But what I do have is the most beautifulest top from Lucy In Disguise in the most beautifulest bag ever. As if that wasn't enough the teapot cocktail came with teacups to drink out of. As if that wasn't enough they were HENDRICKS FRICKING GIN TEACUPS! Alas, I can not find them on the internets to buy and insist that everything I drink from now on comes out of them. Perhaps it's for the best. People may not appreciate Fosters out of teacups.

And then we went home. And I went to work the next day. Ah well. It was nice whilst it lasted.

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