29. A Wednesday Night Unlike Any Other...

Wednesday night saw me heading out to where everybody who's anybody goes on a Wednesday night - Chinawhite of course. I think I have solved my sleeping arrangements issue in the form of Saskia's partying, table hosting pal - Carlton. He lives in Notting Hill and has said it is more than fine to stay there whenever I need to. Apparantly everyone does. I turned up after work on Wednesday night find a girl from the Mo*Vida table the other night was there too. Just like me, she was using this apartment to get ready in then to sleep at after. Handy.
The three of us watched Deal or No Deal which was suprisingly entertaining and ABSO Teen to Beauty Queen which is one of the most genius tv show concepts ever created I'm sure! I used this time to dig for some info on the hottie Dubai boy who looked afte me so much that night. I admit, I had been thinking about him nore than neccessary over the last few days and I was eager to find out more.

Earlier that day Saskia insisted that as he was an Arab and 29 or so already he MUST have a wife. Although shocked and temporarily distraught at the notion I agreed and wallowed for about ten minutes. I found out his name although I shall call him SK, partly for privacy but also because I still can't pronounce nor spell it. Carlton assured me he was a lovely guy (I knew that) but not much more was given away. I didn't want to seem to eager beaver so I left it at that. Well almost... Calton told me he spent the last summer in Marbella with him and had lots of pics on his laptop - yippee I thought as I am rubbish for putting a name to a face. I am ashamed to admit that my intoxicated eyes on the night of our liaison mean't that I couldn't tell one from the other. They were all tall, dark and - well I am sure he was hot! As I looked through the pictures I realised that they were all of Carlton with various hot girls in skimpier and skimpier clothing - sometimes none! Damnit - there wasn't one of SK! I would have to wait until I saw him next. (if ever)

We got down the the business of getting ready. Isn't it funny how different people view outfits in different ways? Yet really it always looks completely the same! I bought a top last weekend that totally could have passed for a dress... well, according to some it could. I showed my sister the other night and she gasped in horror and declared that if I wore that out as a dress I could only accessorise it with the phrase: "You like, you buy? Lookie Lookie." I was taken in by her comments and agreed that the top/dress looked much better with a pair of footless tights (normally something I cannot abide in nightclubs.) Teamed with my new high heeled peep-toes it looked dressed up enough for me to accept them. HOWEVER, when I put the outfit on back at Carlton's apartment, Jenna and him both agreed that it HAD to be worn on it's own!

Strangely I saw just as clearly then that they were right, as much as last night with my sister. Footless tights? to Chinawhite? What was I thinking? Ok so you could sometimes (more often than not) see my bum cheeks in it but that's de rigeur in these places! The only downside being that I tied the halterneck ribbon slightly longer to inch down the ungenerous hemline, and this occasionally made one of my boobs make an appearance.

We headed over to Chinawhite about 11:30pm where we were meeting Saskia among others. Once in we found our table to be rather disappointingly situated next so some rather unfortunate-looking geeks who looked as if they had just stepped out of a Specsavers advert. However on the upside whilst waiting for our drinks for the table to arrive I spotted they had got a bottle of Absolut on their table - yum! 'Will' - winner of Geek 2005 informed me they hadn't been out in 6 months but were splashing out tonight as they had just got a bonus. I decided at this point not to speak to Will as he was weird. Instead I turned my attention back to our own table where there were now a couple more girl in equally (if not more) revealing dresses and instantly felt more at home!

Carlton came back over and soon after Saskia and some of the Arab Men from the hotel after party last week were there. Aaah! HE wasn't with them, was he coming? Was he back in Dubai? I so wanted to see him again - and just as I was thinking that, in he walked and right up to me. "Hello again" he said and leant in for a kiss (on the cheek, come on!) and I felt like I lingered for a little bit, did he feel that? I hope not. Or did I? I have GOT to calm down! I don't know what to say so I tell him I was going to text him the other day (I wasn't), he asked me why I didn't, I don't know why I didn't - ugh - this was getting messy! Luckily my fave Kanye West song came on and I jumped up precariously onto the sofas and danced, Saskia to one side, an alarmingly fake-looking girl to the other and drink in hand!

The night carried on until a relatively tame 2:30am when some guy I had seen a couple of times, Carlton, Saskia and I decided to go. Outside the guy with Saskia had his chauffeur-driven Bentley waiting - yay! We jumped in and headed to an unknown destination - ooh I do love a bit of adventure! there were drinks and music aplenty so for a short while I still thought I was in a club (this is when I realised I was quite drunk.) We pulled up to the Lanesborough Hotel and all of a sudden it was very very quiet. With the music off our voices seemed louder than ever and I vaguely remember walking through the main lobby and upon spying a super-realistic deer in a christmas display, urging Saskia to sit on it while I took a picture. Oh dear.

We were taken up to the most beautiful, luxurious hotel suite (not a room dahling - please. A suite or penthouse will do) - and seriously, it was amazing. Impossibly high celiings, fine art and portraits hung on the walls with decadent wall coverings and curtains from floor to ceiling. Chandeliers that just begged to be swung from domintated each room, only being upstaged by the unmistakable smell of money. We sat and talked and drank from the elegant drinks cabinet for a few hours. When I visit the bathroom it's like stepping into a palace! It's roughly the size of a small apartment and had the biggest bath I have ever seen! It had big, draping, luxurious curtains which you could pull around it and even a little step to get into it. All I could keep thinking was darnit - if only SK were here I would so get him into that bath. I loved the bath.
Come 5am I am done for. I had come to the end of my line. I flopped on the bed and passed out waking up to find Carlton laying on one side of me and Saskia on the other. Super Rich Man had gone to work at 5am (aka gone home to the wife) and I was feeling SICK. I could literally feel vodka pouring through my veins and the urge to vomit exceeded my urge to sleep. I told Carlton and Saskia as much and they agreed we should get up and order some serious room service. I had a craving for a full english breakfast, but also a grilled chicken salad - so I got both. Half an hour of painful hunger-pain pangs later a cute little old butler arrives and hurries about setting the table up with a pristine white table cloth, crystal and silver.

Meanwhile the oddest looking threesome, Saskia, the normally well-heeled and well-turned out brunette sitting in somewhat streaky makeup, the lowest cut pink dress you ever saw and clear stripper shoes on her feet, even though we'd been to sleep, the tall black guy who looks like he's just been dug up and me, slumped over my chair, occasionally heaving at the smell of the food and balking at the brightness of the tablecloth wearing the shortest dress you've ever seen. That's because it's not actually a dress. It's a top!

One disappointing bite of sausage later and I can't do it. The food turns my stomach and I have lost the ability to swallow. I retire back to the bed, resigned and hungry.

Later that day, once the icky feeling had worn off to a degree that I could talk about food without heaving - Saskia and I headed over to East London for a photoshoot with Company magazine. We were to do a feature about dating the same guy and now we're friends! Ha, we couldn't wait to do it then post it to FGF! Ha ha! He thought he was such a God and he really, really was'nt! the shoot style was cool, all vintage furniture mixed with retro pink 80's style telephones and fairy lights. I hope the pictures come out well and the article is a nice, positive one. As I have learned from experience, too many magazines and papers try to screw you over or make you look bad. Only the other day I got a text from my ex-boyfriend saying that my; and I quote: 'slut stories' were being published in The Star again. I eventually got hold of a copy and in there is my face taking up almost the entire left-hand side of the page that was taken about six months ago. I remember the day well... I had a quick picture session booked in for lunch time. When it came to getting ready for it I realised I had completely forgotten my makeup! That day my face appeared in a national paper with not a stitch of make up on. I was soooo not happy about that!

My poor ex does suffer from my little press exploits - last christmas I had a feature in The Star about how crap he was at buying christmas presents. This christmas it was about me kissing some guy from my office at a christmas party - while I was still going out with him. Poor boy!