The other week I was at an awards do. It was a glitzy affair at the Hilton on London’s Park Lane (only a bloody purple on the Monopoly board!).
I’m not a glitzy man, far from it, but I went along and drank champagne, did the mingling, the small talk, the fancy food, the table wine. I had a suit on. I felt like a successful grown up and things were good.
Then I went to the toilet.