Sunday, 20 May 2007

My BAFTA night of hell

Rocked up at the Palladium to take my rightful place alongside the top of the television elite. I looked dapper in my Hugo Boss tux and crisp white Armani shirt. All started well as I mingled over canapes with Surallen, Gordon, Simm, Ann Marie Duff (phwoar) and a host of other A-listers. Then I made my way to where Surallen was sitting, assuming this was where I would be for the night - The Apprentice row, the biggest show of the year, surrounded on all sides by top brass (including Thomo). The place to be seen.

But no. Fifi took me aside by the arm and said in hushed tones, as if to save me from further embarrassment: "You're on the Pulling row. It's our only nominee for the youth channel... would look terrible if you weren't seen to be supporting it."

Supporting it? I haven't even fucking seen it?!

So I was sent to look for row 186. ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY FUCKING SIX! I didn't even think there were that many rows in here....Passed Row Dragons Den... Row Green Wing. Even had to fucking pass the Dancing On Ice production team until eventually I found the Silver River people, about as far away from the fucking stage as you could possibly get.

And this is where I stayed for the night. I could see Derren Brown thirty two rows in front but, to be honest, I had lost the heart to make any approach. I was squeezed next to Felicity (the posh producer) and Tristram (the posh director) and made idle small talk about the "brilliance" of sitcoms and how "we simply don't have enough of them these days on TV" (too many for my fucking liking).

After The Royle Family had won (God, is that northern shit still going?), Daisy leant across and quizzed me on my enormously well paid new job (whilst stroking her hair flirtatiously), and I made some terribly witty comments about the Pat Llewellyn and Gordon Ramsey rumours.

I was stunned by the number of namechecks Richard Klein received (even Ben-fucking-Gale got a mention) and I made a mental note to bring Klein down a peg or two...

At the end of the evening Kevin Lygo said hello which was nice of him (but I think it was accidental as he was trying to find his way to the loo).

What a fucking weekend I've had...

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