My oh my. The expectations were high and oh how they were surpassed.
Thursday did indeed bring McFly into work and if I’m honest I did think loads about what I’d wear that morning. I went for the classy old cleavage and big necklace option. I spent the morning being ridiculed by work peeps about how excited I was and how I’d stalk them. Little did they know…. By about lunchtime everyone in my department had run into at least one member of McFly, just not me. This was not fair. After taking the long route out the building via the dressing rooms and still not seeing them I’d kinda resided to the fact I was never going to see them.
Oh my god. Danny, Dougie and Tom were sat in our work cafe. I had to find reason to go down there. I’m drinking nettle tea at the moment and so don’t generally use our work cafe, the food is shit and the coffee is even worse. But there I was, clutching my pound piece ready to queue up and get myself a coffee. I was about half a meter away from them for about three whole minutes. I even put sugar in my coffee (something I usually never do) just so I could spend longer in their presence. I managed to convince the lovely Alex to go back down the cafe with me just so I could get another bit of perverted teenage boy fun. It gets better though…Danny kinda eyed me up. Like about 3 times! I did pretty much have my boobs hanging out, but thats not the point ok?
It was an amazing day.
Friday I was ill. Boring.
Saturday was THE BIG DAY. We had our tickets for McFly in our grubby hands and nothing was going to quell our excitement. We spent the whole day glamming up, working out what to wear and listening to the entire McFly back cat on random.
A bit of gin later, sitting in the wrong seats to begin with and then moving to pretty much nearly the front I was very much shaking with excitement. It was brilliant. They had pyrotechnics, spinning drumkits and giant inflatable legs on stage. They made rude jokes about the size of Tom’s cock and Dougie looked hot hot hot. I sang and danced and screamed, then sang, danced and screamed a bit more.
We were of course the oldest there without kids in tow. I think I was the only one there who menstruates, everyone else had either never started or stopped long ago. The kids loved it all and god, did they make a lot of noise. Poor old Swish couldn’t cope with all the noise, spending most of the applauding bits with his fingers in his ears.
Heres some pretty pix. I think everyone should take note that indie gigs are shit and pop is the new way forward. Dustins Bar Mitzvah don’t have fireworks or their own orchestras. Therefore they are shit.
After McFly we headed over to Frog, queuing for fucking ages. It seems there’s more guestlist peeps than normal paying plebs now. Ugh. The outrage.
Half an hour of standing in front of some really homophobic boarding school kids (“G-A-Y, shouldn’t it be called A-I-D-S?”) and I wasn’t in the highest of party spirits. Finding out that the once lovely uptairs bar now only plays The Beatles and The Who, and that its still boiling hot and full of girls who elbow made me even more glum. But soon Candy and Jack turned up and we danced and watched the Long Blondes who as always were cute and sounded pretty.
We watched Jeremy Warmsley upstairs too and met him after for a shoe shot. He was really charming, lovely. I was in the best mood.