The Perfect End To A Perfect Evening

Today's a funny old day. It's my niece's first birthday so I've missed all the celebrations and the party. I even phoned her a while ago, but she didn't seem to be in. Quite sad about missing all that, to be honest.

But Ella's on her way - should be about 10 hours away by now - and, of course, I'm very happy about that.

I expect there may be some interesting stories to tell again very soon as a result of Ella's arrival. She can be fairly... mischievous at times. I've removed all breakables from my flat just in case.

I managed to have a pretty exciting last weekend before she arrived, though. Went to a comedy club on Saturday night and saw a couple of very entertaining comics, both from England. The compere, however, was better suited to hosting a mid afternoon daytime television quiz show. He wore a loud shirt, and did that "looking at the audience and waving in a whacky way" thing before he got to the mic. And he did a Bruce Forsyth impression. He also sang Mack the Knife for no apparent reason.

Not entirely sure why I think you might be interested in this seeing as I wasn't particularly interested myself when he was on stage.

Anyway, after the comedy, due to the fact that my friends went home, I found myself alone in a bar with a woman I'd never met before. She was a friend of a friend. An American. Her son goes to the infant school that my senior school is a branch of. We went to meet some more of her friends on Orchard Road, the scene of my nightmare shopping experience. The Christmas lights are fantastic.

Only two of her friends had turned up - an Irish couple who said "feck" an awful lot. The Irish woman went home fairly promptly leaving an Englishman, an Irishman and an American.

We went to a couple of bars and ended up dancing to none other than Jive Bunny. I don't think I've heard Jive Bunny for years. I don't think I've ever danced to Jive Bunny before. And, of course, we were all trying to outdo each other with our ironic dancing, keeping as straight a face as possible and doing the twist with fake sincerity. Even the American. Although perhaps she doing the twist with great sincerity.

A number of things made me feel a bit as if I was in a film. Kind of "Lost In Translation" with three people instead of two in Singapore instead of Japan.

I always feel like this when I'm out with people I don't know because, I guess, I'm always aware that I'm not quite as relaxed as usual, so I guess I put on a bit of an act. You know, I kind of end up watching myself. The film effect was heightened, however, by the Christmas lights, by the fact that I didn't really know where I was because we kept going to plush bars I'd never been to before, by the plush bars themselves, and by the fact that the Irish guy called me "the kid".

"The kid" - I like that.

Just after Jive Bunny had finished, a guy made a pass at the Irishman who gave him short shrift. A few minutes later, he made a hit at the American woman, who also gave him short shrift.

It was at this point that I decided to leave.

I got into a cab. “True” by Spandau Ballet was on the radio.

Perfect.