i Editor's Letter: You will always find me in the kitchen at parties
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Your support makes all the difference.A few years back, I went to a party at 10 Downing Street.
I say party; it was a reception for newspaper editors - so there were no balloons or cheese and pineapple chunks on sticks, and no one got, as Charlotte, i's designer, would say, "mortal" or even merry, let alone hit the karaoke mic.
As ever, it didn't seem much fun for the host. I was coming back from the loo, when I saw the PM and a few of his aides at the entrance to a room full of his enemies – even a couple who weren't in Gordon Brown's then cabinet. The aides went in first, the PM shut his eyes, blew out his cheeks, and shrugged his shoulders. Jacqui Smith was the life and soul.
To coin a phrase: "You will always find me in the kitchen at parties." These days, that's down to greed, not shyness. In truth, most "parties" I go to are for business, not pleasure. I'm not hovering in the kitchen of a friend's house, but watching the waiters. Tip: position yourself as close to the kitchen exit as you can without getting in the head waiter's way, and don't upset the head waiter if you fancy a nibble or two. Those mini burgers speak to me.
I miss house party days. Yes, I grew up in Croydon, but we were at the wrong end of the complex social spectrum to have a "Party" like that Abigail's. In fact, we never had one at home. Not once. Every time the blue lights started flashing outside one of our neighbour's events, my sulky disappointment turned to relief. Binge drinking is nothing new. Who remembers Thunderbird?
Clearly, I am writing this ahead of our Manchester event, about which I am a little anxious. It's not the fab venue, Mosi, or the readers (always great), or even the wildly expensive journey (good fun with colleagues). No, it's the Geordie, again. She says "a party's not a party unless I'm there". We'll soon find out!
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