Saturday night fever - a ball in Battersea Park

After all the hullaballoo surrounding my balldress and shoes, I finally set off on Saturday afternoon for the drive to Battersea. The ball was to be held in a big marquee, right in Battersea Park.

As you would expect, after arriving at the hotel it wasn't long before I encountered my first disaster. The lovely shoes that Sam bought me, didn't fit....... they were too berluddy big. And then I remembered that when I first tried them on, I was wearing socks. What was I thinking about, making such a fundamental schoolboy error? Of even greater consequence, what was I going to do?

A quick text to a friend solved the problem, and ten minutes later I was stuffing the toes with toilet paper [ssssh don't tell anyone....... you will spoil my air of sophistication]. Result! I was ready to go.

After a short taxi ride down the embankment, I finally arrived at an impressing-looking venue which was decked out on a Studio 54 theme. I didn't know what Studio 54 was either, but when I wiki'd it, it said that it was a popular nightclub in the 70's and early 80's. 

Pic.No.1 The inside of the marquee

After mingling and margheritas (salty of course dahlink), we were all invited to take our places at the dinner table, and I was seated beside three entertaining dining companions; Dave, Vanessa and Andy.

"My husband is a nightmare when it comes to buying me presents," Vanessa said to me.

"He can't be that bad if you have only been married a year," I replied.

"Oh he is," she replied. "He didn't get anything for our first anniversary last week, even though he remembered. Even worse than that, for Christmas last year, he got me an umbrella, a hairbrush and one of those things for scraping ice off your windscreen."

"Crikey yeh, that is actually quite bad," I tutted whilst her husband nodded with satisfaction.

Pic.No.2. Me looking blurry and interesting

Our food duly arrived, and for mass catering it was actually quite good, well, until we got to the main course which was chicken stuffed with mushrooms and apricots. A chap sitting on the other side of Vanessa was looking worried and was hailing a waitress.

"I'm sorry, I can't eat this," he stammered to her.

"Oh I am sorry, sir, are you a vegetarian?" she asked politely.

"No. I am scared of mushrooms," he replied.

Yeh you read right. It wasn't that the guy just didn't like mushrooms, he was scared of them. What the bloody hell is that all about? Ok, some people have phobias, but for the life of me, I can't see what a mushroom could possibly do to terrify someone.

Pic.No.3 All the dining tables had bloody great flamingoes on them

 

Pic.No. 4. Vanessa and Dave........ "See that bloke over there..........."

Pic.No. 5 "Well he's scared of mushrooms................"

Once dinner had finished, some fine performers had been lined up for entertainment. In summary, there was a woman who dangled off a sheet hanging from the ceiling, and she turned upside and did the splits, and a bloke who could spin bowls on the end of sticks..... until finally the dancing commenced.

Pic.No.6 A bloke spinning bowls on the end of sticks

Pic.No.7 Let the dancing commence

"So," I hear you cry, "were you up there strutting your stuff?"

Was I heck. I hate dancing, and happen to be very bad at it, so Vanessa and I decided to try and put the false eyelashes on me which had been left as a gift for the guests on the dining table (amongst other things reminiscent of the 70s).

Pic.No.8. Vanessa and me....... You sure you want to wear these eyelashes? Damn sure corporal! Proceed immediately

Pic.No.9 Vanessa tries to work out the false eyelashes

Suffice to say, twenty minutes later, I was not wearing any false eyelashes, and glue that was supposed to attach them, was making it difficult for me to fully open my eyes.

Which probably explains what happened next. Yep, not just mine, but both our mobile phones were stolen from the table, from right under our noses. Oh yes, the beautiful relationship between me and my titanium Nokia Arte 8800 came to an abrupt end....... oh Nokia, Nokia, where for art thou?

To be fair, I got over it pretty quickly with the realisation that this was freedom from the impasse, and that a shiney new Apple iPhone was now mine for the taking. Ok, I may be construed as shallow, but there is no point dwelling on the past.

Interestingly, when Vanessa telephoned T-Mobile to report her mobile stolen, the lady on the end of the phone said that hers was the 32nd phone to be reported stolen at that venue. That's just for T-Mobile, I wander how many phones were nicked when you factor in all the other networks? Hmmmmmmm, we were surrounded by some seriously crafty thieves.

Needless to say, we recovered from our loss pretty quickly and had a marvellous time at the ball, partying until 1am. I know, I know, I am a bit of lightweight, but age catches up on you sometimes.

Pic.No.10 Yours truly ....... stripped of all forms of communication

 

Pic.No.11. My lovely shoes....... donated by Sam .........lasted the whole night long

Thank you very much. I had a brilliant time!