It's a Friday night and we're at The Box in Covent Garden.
Since I have only slept for around 3 hours in the last 24, I am having a cigarette. This is because Marlboro Lights are a cheap and easy way to up your metabolism.
I have a double vodka and cranberry because Chris would annihilate me if I knew I was drinking anything with a higher sugar or carb content.
I am with Andrew and we're discussing the virtues of Norwegian airlines, stolen mooses and short people. Suddenly, standing in front of me is a guy.
He's looking fierce and who knows how this this going to end...
Am I going to have my teeth punched out? Is there going to blood on the pavement?
Yes, it's him.
There is a tense stand-off. Did I take the piss? Words are said. Accusations thrown. The music is off. The crowd is tense.
Actually nothing of the sort happens but how good does that sound?
There are no punches. There is no blood running down the gutter. There is, instead, just this...
Which forms part of this...
I've worked with Joanna Lumley, Jeremy Clarkson and Julie Andrews (basically anyone whose name starts with J) but this is the autograph I will treasure most.
I am walking and trying to not skip to Charing Cross tube station to catch the Bakerloo Line home.
The Phonat Remix of Sonny J's "If You Hold My Hand" is incredibly catchy.
Nothing much else happened today although I may have swapped numbers with some random fit guy who I'd seen on the front of some tatty magazine.