Not me for starters. I got a call from Dan on Saturday, he was due to fly out to LA today to meet up with one of the magazine's top sponsors. But he said Clare finally kicked him out the house. Anyway, well, the poor man was in tears, sobbing like a baby he was, "Barry, it feels like you're the only one I can turn to," he said.
I had to invite him around. He was reluctant at first, he said he did fancy moving into town, but really he wanted to live somewhere 'nice'. Jeesh, the cheek of the man. I know my place isn't great, but he's never even been, and here I am offering a roof over his head! I had half a mind to tell him to read my last blog post regarding the importance of shelter. But then, I'm a charitable man, and Dan has been good to me. Really good actually, he gave me a job and then he's pretty much left me to my own devices, then when I saw him camping in Brighton he gave me all last week off. So I figured I'd put his impoliteness down to the stress of his marriage breakdown. I remember how I felt when Amber left me. I was distraught, but we get over these things fast.
He came over that night, and asked to borrow some keys, he said he was meeing some friends in Clapham. I gave it until about 11:30, then went to bed. The next thing you know, I hear the keys in the front door, it's starting to get light out, Dan had been out all night! I went downstairs and Dan was sitting on the sofa having a very earnest chat with another chap. They fell silent for a moment, then Dan introduced me to his friend, his friend seemed nice enough, I think they must have been up chatting, because they seemed very tired. It's funny but I don't think he told me his friend's name, he just kept calling him "my friend here". I did the decent thing and said he should really get his head down, but he said it was OK, he'd just go over to his friend's place for a bit.
I went down the Impy to meet Dave the roofer and watch his team get some revenge of sorts over Man Utd (I hope you enjoyed it Mess man?!). Anyway, I got home and there was no sign of Dan. Eventually, at about 8:00 I heard the keys in the lock again, it was Dan, and my word he didn't look so clever. He was incoherant with panic, ranting on and on about something, rummaging through his suitcase and panicking. "You'll have to go, you'll have to go. I can't, not in this state," he said.
It was then that he revealed I would have to take his place and fly out to LA to meet the client. And then here I am. Well, this Virgin Atlantic VIP business is AMAZING. I was picked up by a taxi and whisked to Heathrow and then ushered through check in, and then found myself sitting in Branson's lounge. There's atmospheric jazz music playing, two bars, waitresses dishing up free drinks, computers from which I can blog, a large screen showing FOUR channels. A pool table, those fancy round plastic chairs hanging from chains in the ceiling, there's an entire pick n mix table. I tell you what, I wish I hadn't bothered with my Shreddies this morning, becasue the eggs benedict looks amazing.
I've got a funny story about eggs benedict, but it'll have to wait, I've just seen Ricky Gervais and I need to get his autograph! These opportunties don't come up everyday.
I'll try and post something from Lala Land, but I'm not sure how much time I'll have. I really want to go to that Chinese take-away and have a look at the stars in the boulevard, not to mention check out the beach babes down on Sunset Strip.TTFN readers, I'm boarding in just under an hour and I think I might go and treat myself to some Champagne and sushi!!