Cults, coughs, comedy and the countdown

Not that Laura’s drama wasn’t electrifying, but I’ve just remembered what I meant to write about yesterday: on Wednesday evening I bumped into a guy I used to be friends with at Bristol. That’s not the story – bear with me. It had been around a decade since I’d last seen him and we had rather an awkward, red-faced reunion while we were waiting for a Piccadilly Line train at King’s Cross and had to calculate whether we were just going to say hello quickly, reinsert our earphones and move on, or stay with each other for the duration of our onward journey. Just then, London Transport made our decision – the train arrived and we were committed.

Taking seats opposite each other in the commuter-filled carriage, we tried to catch up without sounding too stabbable to the surrounding audience. It was a little tense until Luke mentioned he was sworn off marriage to life, after his ‘nightmare’. I had heard talk of this but never knew the details. His wife of a couple of years had, apparently, been swept away by a cult, a group loosely affiliated to Scientology. Pah, I don’t know why they deserve a capital letter… loosely affiliated to scientology. Her family is rich and famous and her parents believe that she was targeted for her wealth. The first time she disappeared, she was found in Miami after a three week international manhunt. She returned home for six months and then evaporated again – and hasn’t been seen since. Apparently the marriage was on the rocks anyway so my friend didn’t seem too distraught but the story in itself is gripping and ripe for a full-length retelling. Bagsy.

What else is news? Everyone, but everyone seems to be revoltingly ill. So far I have only felt like I was on the threshold of developing a cold and haven’t yet succumbed to an actual illness. But it can only be a matter of hours before one of the billions of uncovered coughs and sneezes I must have inadvertently inhaled over the past few weeks does its job.

Last night I went with Katherine and others to the BBC to watch my old university ‘pal’ (and when I say ‘pal’, in truth I mean ‘person who might, with assistance, recall that he used to know me vaguely a long time ago, but I wouldn’t hold your breath’) Marcus Brigstocke presenting his weekly show, The Late Edition, which goes out live at 10:30pm on BBC4 to an audience of eight. I fully expected to seethe with the combination of disgust and envy that I exhibit so frequently but in fact he was skilled and impressive and I couldn’t have done it. He did, though, use a joke which he used in his stand-up set at Bristol which inexplicably made me feel a bit superior.

Not long now 'til the weekend and two consecutive days of relaxation and sleep debt consolidation. TGIF.