I know they’re fresh

Just got a delicious hummus salad from Pret a Manger. What a great deal, I though: you get, like, a bag of mixed salad, a giant ice-cream scoop of hummus (OK, only one tiny pita bread), feta cheese, tiny plum tomatoes… and one spider. OH MY GOD. My fork was headed for a choice bundle of beetroot leaves, rocket and red onion, when I noticed the little fella sat right there. The fork clattered* on to my desk and after much screeching I looked again – and he’d gone. After poking through the foliage for a while he reappeared. Shaken, I put on my coat and marched across the street to the guilty branch of Pret and spoke to the manager, who offered me a sandwich or soup or coffee, but sadly my appetite was well and truly lost. Did get a voucher for a free sandwich and coffee. Oh, and my money back.

So I’ve had it with nature and trying to be healthy. After the salad fiasco, lunch today was a white chocolate Magnum ice-cream bar, two slices of Saren malt loaf and an orange. A perfectly balanced meal: fat, carbs, and fresh fruit!

I wrote the above about two weeks ago, but have not had the time/inclination to post it… very lame. On Sunday night we danced at Le Beat Bespoke. It was fun and went really well: a crowd of five- or six hundred, and very few of them looked bored. Always a good sign. We were on right before Love, which was quite a coup, and I got to watch the gig from backstage. Gutted that my camera battery conked out before I was able to take a photo of Arthur Lee, especially as he was about ten feet away from me for most of the show.

Mods are a funny bunch, though. I was getting major hostile vibes from some dumb-haired gonk in the dressing room when we came off stage. I think certain men just hate the thought of a group of women having a great time and prancing about feeling like goddesses. It’s not ‘art’, but boy is it fun.



*silently. It was plastic