Some girl in the queue for the loo, full face on, calling my dress tarty. I smiled, took a photo anyway, and posted it before last orders. She can cope.
Tag: party
Afters With No Speakers
Ended up in a warehouse kitchen in Hackney Wick, twelve people, one Bluetooth dying, someone’s Deliveroo arriving at 6am. I still call it a party. Sophie calls it a cry for help.
Cloakroom Queue Was Criminal
Soho, Saturday, one toilet cubicle with a lock that actually worked. We still managed. I lost an earring and gained a story. The attendant definitely knew. I tipped her anyway.
Walk Of Pride In Daylight
No jacket. His socks. Sunglasses I found in the Uber. A woman with a pram looked at me like I’d invented sin. Morning.
Mia Booked A Surprise Stripper
For my “un-birthday”. He was late, polite, and ended up drinking our wine. I tipped him in leftover pizza.
Soho At Six Still Going
Daylight through the curtains they forgot to close. Someone ordered more drinks like time wasn’t real. It wasn’t.
Mia Covered For Me
Told Sophie I crashed at a cousin’s. I was three streets over with a man whose Instagram I still can’t find. Mia wants payment in the form of me doing her laundry. Fair.
The Landlord Texted About Noise
At 4:12. I replied at 4:13 with a heart emoji. He has not followed up. Coward.
Dalston Kitchen At Someone’s Mate’s
No one knew whose flat it was by 5am. There were fairy lights and a chopping board used as a tray. I made toast for a stranger.
I Kissed The Barman First
He was fit, bored, and already looking at me like I’d started it. So I did. The drinks came quicker after that. Not a strategy. Just good manners.