Conference

The Guildhall. A warren of historic and beautiful rooms, with high ceilings. This is the third year I’ve done this conference so I have a handle on what will be needed when by now which makes it less stressful, but it’s a long long day. Sometimes we can come in and clear it up the morning after the job, but not this time. This time we are here until the bitter end. It looks like we will be on the go until 4am. “Do you want some beer,” ask the suppliers from time to time. “Absolutely not.”

I had a chicken mango tikka sandwich from the co-op, and a bag of dry roasted peanuts. I think they might cut us into the food the delegates are eating though which will be a treat. I’m gonna have to write this piecemeal throughout the evening.

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There’s a lot of booze going on up there. A room full of publicans. We have cleared out the basement now where they were all meeting suppliers and getting involved with all their mailing list shenanigans. “Spin the wheel of booze!” T-shirts and hats and lanyards, goodie bags and branding and swag. I’m on the way out with booze so I’m probably only gonna go home with things that Brian and Maddy might use. Don’t want to encourage myself. I’ve been given two loaves of bread. Hell yeah. “Bread is expensive these days,” he tells me.

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Two plates of chicken with truffle and a single asparagus stalk. I’m gonna load up on appletizer so I don’t curl up and fall asleep in the corner. My feet hurt.

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Flagging. It’s half ten. Hour and a half before it all goes boom again, right now they’re all dancing and so long as I make sure the slops are slopped there aren’t many potential problems. Shimmy has this very well organised, the bulk of the work is in the prep. Best take that fucking easel down, it’s not like they’ll want the table plan anymore.

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Geezer at Mirabeau just gave me a lovely bottle of rose just cos I sorted some bits out for him. That’ll go in the fridge and maybe one hot summer day it’ll come back out again.

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Time for DJ Ben. But where the heck is he?

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He’s up. Starting with Freed from Desire. I’m relaxing for a moment with Joe who I shared with in Saudi, Ffion and Shimmy. Overlaps of bits of my life. There’s something in this habit I have of saying “yes” to whatever the fuck is possible even if it’s only just possible. We are in at the end of a vast leather table in a room full of silver and ghosts.

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This is so well organised. I need to up my back end game with the ambitious stuff I’m starting out with. Front end I’ve got sewn up. But both faces would be a coup.

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Last tune. And he’s gone with Bohemian Rhapsody. I’ve already pulled up the floor for Mirabeau. Venue are much more active than usual. Might not be up all night.

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They are hammered. It’s hilarious.

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2:11. Got swag. Almost too tired to carry it back to the purple palace. I wonder if I can take a load of Asahi 0% on a Lime bike knackered and not fall over.