Well, last night was very successful. The team did a fantastic job of decorating the Masonic Hall - my favourite part was 'The Enchanted Forrest, where they has decorated the dining hall with all the redundant xmas trees of St Leonard's and just had fairy lights - there was a DJ in there playing more low key stuff and you could just have a wander around and sit in the pine forrest and fall asleep - like Narnia but with less snow.
I actually enjoyed it - mainly because I spent all night in the cloakroom area - which meant I got to see everyone, stayed sober and didn't have to dance. I could also send people out for drinks when needed - a relief, as the bar was constantly packed. Nearly every single guest turned up - meaning that we were totally overwhelmed with coats - at exactly midnight the whole coat rack area at the back collapsed under the weight of it all and buried me - I had to call for help - one of the trannies dug me out before I asphyxiated.
My sophisticated drug dealer / rapist outfit went down very well - I wore a black velvet Lousis Feraud suit with aviator sunglasses and the biggest Mexican gangster muttonchops I've ever grown - they are coming off later this morning - very few people recognised me.
There were loads of events and performances, including bingo and formation dancing - two small girls spent the evening sprinkling glitter on people and there was an absinthe fairy - I declined.
Because I didn't drink much I don't have a hangover - but I have a massive headache from the noise - which was pretty immense and not what I'm used to.
When I was a student and living in London I used to work a lot in clubs as coat check - I loved it and you could make pretty good money - my regular gigs were at the Cafe de Paris and The Wag, also a place called Cafe des Artistes which was my favourite. They always had closed coat areas with the right number of hangers - last night we had 25 hangers to start with and began doubling up straight away - but after the collapse, it was chaos and I had to resort to piles in chronological order. I did warn everyone when they brought their coat in that they may have a wait if everyone starts to leave at the same time ( anticipated at 12.20am ) - but it actually went really well - everyone had a black coat - so you can imagine what it was like " I've lost my ticket - it's a black coat" but only one person was rude "you'd better look after this - it's actually a very 'good' coat" ( it was only Karen Millen) and I only had to give one person a 'hard stare' - which - considering I looked like Carlos The Jackal... did the trick.
There was no trouble, no grief, no fuss and nobody was silly. Only one person tried to get in without a ticket - and it was, as expected one of a group of young people "Oh my God, like we've so totally forgotten to buy enough tickets and it's like so embarrassing but he's ok he's with us " - and 3 people who couldn't come made a trip over to return their ticket so we could re-sell them, with it being for charity and all that.
I managed to avoid having my picture taken by the house Paparazzi on the red carpet - but I'm looking forward to seeing the results. People really dressed up - Katherine and Anton came as Elton John and David Furnish at that party when they dressed up in huge wigs - they looked great. As usual in Hastings - any excuse for girls to get into very tight corsets - and the tit's are out ( my toupee tape came in handy ) and all the men made an effort too, either in something Victorian or dinner jackets, except one of the hosts who probably surprised his wife by coming as Suzie Wong..
I'm glad I was kept busy, because, frankly - I hate parties myself and wouldn't have gone if I wasn't working - I really miss bar work for the same reason... the way things are looking financially I may have to get something along those lines for the evenings.
I walked home through town at about 3am - it was pretty busy still - The Tubman was full of under aged revelers and there were a lot of street Pastors about - but none of the offered me a bottle of water and a shoulder to cry on. Got home and watched a bit of telly with a cuppa. Nice.
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