The importance of being fashionably late

Or

The further misadventures of Busyellebee

Or 

Why oh why didn’t I arrive late?

After a morning of featuring high stress levels that would rival that of a rogue city stock broker who was about to get caught, I decided to make myself a relaxing cup of tea and try to chill out.  I watched Loose Women followed by House of Eliot, and then got inspired. I decided to craft my hair into a modern bee hive. I have no idea why a drama about a fashion house set in 1920’s London inspired me to create a 1960s hairdo, but inspired I was.  Not a Amy Winehouse style hair do mind, a more subtle effect was sought.

Now attempting to create a bee hive hair do with long hair is trying at best.  With short hair – a near impossible affair.  But I continued, because once I have set my mind to do something, I will complete it regardless of sense or sensibility  If you imagine my head covered with about 6 hair combs of varying quality and enough hair grips to fill the Royal Albert Hall, you will not be too far off from the actual ‘creation’.

Hair done, I note the time, now 3pm, having started at 2pm – and prepare to go out.  Shower!  Opps! no waterproof hair cap – this is going to be interesting!

Shower, managed to dry my hair with a drier (not to be recommended when you have a thousand metal hair grips in your hair), get dressed – smart shirt and jeans.  I need a jacket – opps! it doesnt fit.  I frantically search for alternative.  Find one that fits – just – if I don’t do up the buttons.  Just as well as it’s my winter coat and it is unseasonably warm outside.

I step outside at 5pm, everything is cool, I look ‘da bomb’, feel like serious but trend setting reviewer, off to write a review the definitive movie of the year. I hear a ‘clunk’, I turn around and glance the pavement towards the source of the mysterious sound. One of my hair combs has fallen out of my hair.  Return home to fix hair do.

5.30pm leave home – again.  It’s ok I’m still on time. Buy ticket, board train – it’s the new rolling stock, plenty of light, room and loads of comfy seats.  I find a seat and settle down for the journey.  I’m feeling young, trendy, about to take on the world.  I am Lois Lane, ace super reporter for the Daily Planet! I look across and see an old aged, large built woman, with deep set wrinkles, and a very dodgy, old fashioned looking hair style  Oh dear I think, she looks a bit rough!The train doors close, and the train pulls away from the station.  I then realise that the woman I was looking at was actually my reflection!  Now feel like Bridget Jones, on a bad day!

I arrive at the destination train station, it’s still light.  The beautiful trendy arty people are hanging bars and clubs enjoying the early evening sunshine, looking beautiful trendy and arty.  Many deep in conversation, I imagine they are chatting about their work, politics, love life, if Gary Barlow is a better than Simon Cowell. (He is).  I take out my notebook from my bag, which contains information for the directions of the venue, which I carefully copied from Steetmap.  Following the instructions to the letter, I proceed up the road, and then turn back as I have just walked into a dead end.

I arrive on the street where the venue is located – it looks a little confusing.  I can’t find the entrance, so I walk up and down in that clueless manner that lost people have.  I see a young girl seemingly dart into a building.  My instinct tells me to follow.  Ah!  There is the entrance.

Stranger: Hello!
Me: Hello I’m here to see the film. (This guy looks familiar, hmm)
Stranger:  Oh hi, yes, I’m the director, do come in!
Me: (I my head)  Oh hell!!!!!  I wasnt supposed to meet you yet, I was supposed to meet my contact, who was then supposed to introduce me to you – my game plan is now shot to pieces.  PANIC!!!

OK I admit, Im not the world’s most confident person at the best of times.  But if I have my notes, and I’m well prepared, I can hold my own.  I can blend in, mix it up.  I bring forth my inner Lois Lane.

Director: Great!, you are the first to arrive, would you like something to drink?
Me:  Err (mild state of panic) just a small glass of white, if you have it.
Director:  No we dont…..ha ha, I’m only joking (pours huge glass of white).

Fantastic! Blooming great this! I’m to make small talk with a complete and utter stranger, who I only heard about 4 weeks ago, have only read about 2 weeks ago, and I’m in complete and utter awe of.  This guy was in 1 brilliant band, is currently in another brilliant band, is a gifted solo artist, writes for TV, radio, is an actor, sings, plays numerous instruments, and now has directed his first movie, and has a solo album coming out, which he also wrote.  This guy makes Gary ‘workaholic’ Barlow look like a lazy slob!

And to cap it all, he has a sense of humour.  Do I respond to humour, or act as ultra cool, serious reviewer?  He is shorter than I expected, I tower over him. I’m aware that I may look intimidating especially as I’m dressed in a long black jacket and dark coloured jeans on a sunny evening.  Oh heck, game plan, game plan, activate game plan.   Oh yes my research… I start the conversation….

Me:  I’ve been looking forward to today, and I’ve been hearing some wonderful things about the movie – I understand that it’s nominated at Raindance festival.

I feel clever – I remembered a key fact and dropped it into the conversation. I look like credible reviewer, someone who knows her stuff.   I’m holding my own….  I am Lois Lane.

At least that is what I heard myself saying – the words that actually left my mouth were….

Me: I understand that it’s been nominated at Sundance festival.
Director: You mean Raindance!
Me: (in my head)  OH HELL!  I’ve got my film festivals mixed up  (Takes nervous large slip from glass).

Conversation continues, with breaks for me to take more nervous large slips of wine and then…

Director:  Would you like some more wine?

Me: (Oh great, he nows thinks that I’m an alcoholic – I don’t even normally drink alcohol).  No thank you.
Director:  (looks surprised)  No please have some more, that’s what it’s here for.
Me: (I don’t want to be impolite, I’ve already insulted him by getting the festivals mixed up) OK just a small one please.

… Cuts long story short…

Im on my 5th large glass of wine …. more guests file in, and I’m still the tallest person in the foyer.  Feeling very self conscious, my contact still hasn’t arrived, and I’m very light headed.  All thoughts of Lois Lane have left and a vision not unlike Bridget Jones replaces her. Thankfully I remember to avoid the odd looking statuette, fearing the saga Bridget Jones endured in “Edge of reason”.

The young girl I followed into the venue approaches, no doubt feeling very sorry for the tall, not so lanky, feeling very hot because I’m wearing a winter coat indoors, woman standing in the corner.  Turns out she running the directors social network.  We are swapping tips and addresses.  I feel calm, relaxed more reviewer like and ready to enjoy the film.

The movie was brilliant, and I jot down plenty of great review notes in my note book, which I left with my empty wine glass on the table in the foyer, just before I left for home.

The moral of the story….

It never pays to be fashionably early, for anything!

I’ve since been invited to another event, for which I have already RSVP’d and apologised for being extremely late for. I am nothing if not quick to learn from my errors, prepared and extremely polite. Oh and I’m sticking with X Factor, House of Eliot is too dangerous for me to watch again!

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