Rob's Blog
Arthur Dent, Barbarella, and a very small planet
30th Oct 2006 13:10
On Saturday evening I ticked something of my “10 things to do before you die†list.
On Friday morning I got up at silly AM so I could get to London for a reasonable hour to start work. I honestly don't know how people commute. I really think the walk from my bedroom to the office via a cup of coffee is about as long as I could handle these days.
Friday night I met up with Ari and Rachel in Oxford street for an evening of general catching up, and excessive drinking. After getting lost in a maze of streets we eventually, passing many other bars, found our way to the Piano and Pitcher in Dean Street. I was very upset to find out that not only was there no piano but that they didn't do pitchers of beer. Pushing an irksome sense of disappointment to one side beer was poured, bottles of wine were purchased, and the banter was flowing. (We did, however, neglect to eat any dinner. It really didn't take much to get me very drunk!).
In the Piano and Pitcher a strange thing happened... so far away from the streets of Brighton I bumped into not one, but two people I knew. Both were called Ben. And no, I wasn't seeing double (yet). One was walking past outside, one was working in the bar. What are the chances?
I spent the majority of Saturday shopping in Ealing, feeling mildly hungover, and reading 'The wind-up bird chronicles' on a range of public transport as I made my way towards Archway. I was in a good mood. A very good mood.
Saturday night is when the magic happened. On Saturday night, I went to a random fancy dress party in Islington. I, it was only fitting, went dressed as Arthur Dent. Towel and everything. It was perfect. Big tick next to that one. My attempts to explain the costume became easier when someone exclaimed “Oh! Right - you've come as Tim from the Office! I get it now, that's really good!â€. Philistines.
In between Dave pouring me glasses of 'Red Wine and Coke' (he might be a good estate agent, but nobody should ever let that man work in a cocktail bar) I met Barbarella, a parole officer. The Grim Reaper, a cocoa negotiator for a major biscuit manufacturer. The Wardrobe from Narnia, who could open the wardrobe doors with her cleavage. Teen Wolf, James Bond, and a never ending assortment of witches.
Zaphod never showed. If the world ends now at least I've ticked something off that list. Actually... it's lunch time now. I think I'm going to nip out for 6 pints of biter and a few packets of peanuts....
