Friday was Lovely Niece Sam's birthday and we were invited to her do at a pub in the shadow of St Pauls.
Off we set. Were stopped in our tracks at the door, when the large Doorman/Bouncer pointed at my feet and said ' No Trainers'
Well, yes, I did see the note about it, but I don't have a trainer...I don't even go to gym.
But, I do have takkies. These takkies are black, and they don't even have laces. But, they are apparently trainers nonetheless. So I was refused entry, The Hubby went mad ( I was quite impressed) and so, with a lot of speaking into radios, another doorman/bouncer arrived, and I was escorted around the corner, down an alley, and in through the kitchen.!!!!
So that nobody would see me arriving in my trainers. Bloody hell. Fuck knows what I will wear should I ever be invited to the palace.
After I had been smuggled in, it was very nice, very loud, very London. We left early so as not to cramp the children's style. We were thrilled to bits to be invited. See? Lovely niece Sam is as lovely as can be.
And then we went to out next engagement, to a pub in Greenwich, to which First friend Kaybee had invited us.
Lordy Lordy.
There was a really good guitarist/singer. A really funny comedienne. A really crap singer, and a comedienne who was a bit, but not totally crap. An existentialist poet who looked as though he may possibly go and kill himself as soon as he finished the reading.. And then, a ....now how do I describe this??
A performance art very odd person who performed 'I am the Walrus' whilst dancing with/juggling/ playing/ drum cymbals and paint brushes. Not attached to a drum kit. No, because then he wouldn't have been able to throw them around the room. Was quite the most oddly fascinatingly weird thing I have ever seen in my life.
Laughed all the way home on the bus.
I do love London
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