The guest list.

It’s not long now until the party, and last night I lay in bed contemplating the mix of people who might well be attending, I thought of some of the funny/terrifying conversations that could take place.

Naming no names, the guests who have been invited and who should be attending (or can consider themselves struck off every social list in the future unless they have a VERY good excuse) include:

A BAFTA nominated illustrator
An off duty copper
A book reviewer
A cross dresser
A gaggle of Guardian employees
A handful of city boys
An advertising mogul
A scientist
A BAFTA winner
A gay sex expert (that’s me!)
An ecologist
An extremely talented photographer with a penchant for nudes
A publisher
A hippy or two
An oil company trader
4 bloggers
A couple of slightly unhinged people (me included)
A ‘grow your own’ believer (or 2)

This guest list reminded me of the reverse of that game ‘pairs’ that you used to play when you were little. You’d turn over one, (and you might have turned over a hippy or an ecologist) and then you turn over another….Oh NO the oil trader. Fight ensues.

Then you turn over the dope smoker followed promptly by the off duty copper…again, not a great recipe for party success.

OR, the barrister and the copper- jesus. Lethal.

Worst of all perhaps, the city boys and the creatives. Nothing in common at all. Definite chances of tumbleweed stifled murmurings.

Can you guess which of these is made up? It’s only one.

See you there. It’s going to be good, but you don’t need to be told that.