3 October - The Wrong club

On a recent night I went to a charity quiz with some friends and then onto the Embassy for a night a friend, RP, was organising there and featuring another friend, G.

I arrived though having missed quite a bit of the action as they told me the guestlist closed at 11.30 and so I arrived then, thinking it would start then! But met her man J again and had a chat also with a very hunky friend of his Richard, who was grumpy though as you could tell he hated just being there on his own waiting for J to leave . I told him to chat to gorgeous N (friend of G) as I knew he didn’t want to be stuck with me and he said ‘If she’d wanted me to sit/talk with her, she’d have made it known’ and I though ‘oh dear, grumpy!!!’ . Then spoke to N who said she thought he was boring. See ? it’s all a matter of where you are in life (N is 30) and she likes younger guys (she’s just started dating a 27 year old who chatted her up at Fabric... sigh!) and skinny , whereas this guy was a 40 year old, tall rugby style man working for an arms company and I'd have been all ears.. Ah well. I left with her at 1 am… some other people there I knew and good at doing introductions but it’s a strange thing.. you find yourself being introduced to Rebecca, Dominick, Annabel and so on and you just think ‘Er.. I don’t know what to say to you’. And they don’t’ either .. so you move on, stand there on your own till your host rescues you again. I can’t be bothered anymore, it wouldn't lead to anything but a fruitless search of commong ground.

Anyway, the evening was notable for the first concrete real sign that my brain is missing beats now. I drove and parked by The Embassy in New Bond St, only for the Embassy not to be there. I walked around the block puzzling before asking a security guard who directed me to Savile Row. And the penny dropped. I was horrified. I had basically driven and parked where the Embassy was back in the 80's when I was there pretty often. This would not be that strange if I also hadn't been to the new location in Saville Row over a dozen times in the last 2 years. So I knew both bits of information but my brain only gave me the information from 15/20 years ago.

This is akin to those old people who go home after the pub and suddenly turn up at the home they lived in with their mum 70 years prior to the home they now shared with thei equally dementia prone old wife.

Worried? moi??????

I told D. all this and we're now starting to refer to these kind of things as 'OLP' old ladies problems as we don't want anyone to read of all this in our emails. Tragic doesn't beging to explain how this makes me feel.