My stomach had been acting up all day and it's difficult to play the game of interest and amusement when your body won't cooperate. What a beautiful home you have [sigh], is that an Eileen Gray [wince], champagne would be lovely [gag].
There were some interesting people, the guest of honour was funny and articulate, and the drinks and conversation ever flowing. Discussion ranged from business (I'm working on my second career and want to start my own interior design company) to travel (the wife and I wanted to go somewhere different but aren't sure now, what with that whole flotilla incident), to G20 environmentalism (they uprooted saplings because they might be used as weapons, can you imagine) and FIFA World Cup football (I see a Germany-Brazil final, it would be spectacular, a phenomenal acrobatic ballet).
The food was delicious. Hors d'oeuvres of smoked salmon and cream cheese crostini and a roasted red pepper, cream cheese and tapenade on baguette; arugula salad with strawberries and candied walnuts; halibut with lemon caper sauce, green beans, grape tomatoes and new potatoes; and a scrumptious strawberry short cake. And, of course, lots and lots of wine.
It was a lovely evening, actually. Although, a little like waking up in the middle of a Woody Allen film.
There are worse things. But, at least, nothing that can't be cured with Prozac and a mallet.