Meeting Of The Sisterhood

My evening out with The Sisterhood was cool. I rushed to the tube station and was greeted by hordes of people, totally forgetting it was half term and so loads of families were on their way home from the surrounding museums. I met Lolly at the other end and we giggled at how hysterical we both already were, both well in need of an evening of fun after a long week.

We went to this wine bar which was underground; the stairs down to the bar were incredibly steep, which I wouldn’t have thought was a good combination with the effects of drinking wine, but perhaps the precarious exit route helped to encourage punters to stay in the bar longer before attempting to leave. Downstairs it was like a crypt, with low, curved ceilings made of stone and old wooden furniture, including random wooden dining chairs with arms, that made me feel a bit like I was sitting on a throne. We met Nats (which I have nick-named her as she looks like Natalie Imbruglia) on her way to get food and had a three-way hug, before she directed us to the rest of the gang who were sat around a tiny table in the far corner. Head Sister was there and Mr. Coffee (who I never worked with, but have met a few times out with the gang because he does the job I used to do - he is a sweetheart and very likeable), so we exchanged hugs and hellos and sat down in the cosy corner.

The fact that it was a wine bar and I don’t drink wine wasn’t such a big deal, lol, they also served good old rustic food – you could get a plate of two huge hunks of cheese of your choice (there were roughly 20 on offer), a huge hunk of crusty white bread (pretty much half a baguette) with butter and pickles of your choice (we got pickled onions, mini gherkins and Branston-style pickle) for £7. I shared a plate with Lolly (brie and mature cheddar, we didn’t go too adventurous). It was yummy. It also helped that the bar staff were nearly all male, Hispanic/Latino and rather good-looking, but ranging between surly, sexy or friendly in demeanour.

We chatted and laughed over our drinks and nibbles, and they hailed Lolly as the Second Renegade of The Sisterhood (me being the first defector), asking how her new job was and teasing her poor excuse for a new office. Head Sister has visited it and likened it to the set of budget soap operas Prisoner Cell Block H or Crossroads, in which the notoriously shaky sets often visibly moved on camera. We were (or still are) all spoiled by working at that place. It’s not often that administrators or PA’s get their own enclosed office in a relatively newly-built building that isn’t part of the private sector. *Sigh* Those were the days. Although, it is nice having colleagues around to talk to, like I do now. I just sometimes wish we had our own smaller office in which to do it!

We laughed at old anecdotes of the professors who work in the Centre, including Mr. Coffee asking me if Prof. Fuzzy von Forgetful used to come to my office at random intervals to ask for random bits of stationary, even though I wasn’t his PA or even worked on his team. “Yes! Yes he did,” I assured him, “All the time. ‘Hi, have you got an envelope? Hi, would you have any Blu-Tack? Hi, what’s the fax number?’” We laughed at how everything is exactly the same and the annoying professors are still annoying and the lovely ones are still lovely. There was a bizarre survey that Nats was taking, where your predicament was that you had to pick one professor (either Prof. Fuzzy von Forgetful or Prof. Podgy von Balding) to sleep with, in order to save the world. Mr. Coffee had chosen Fuzzy von Forgetful, because of his fuzziness, which induced involuntary shudders down my spine. “He’s all cuddly,” he said, gamely playing along despite the fact he is very happily married. Head Sister agreed with him, much to my despair. Nats plumped for Podgy von Balding. Lolly sensibly remained rather silent on the issue.

“So this is to save the world?” I asked, trying to play along through my disgust (lol).

“Yes,” said Nats emphatically, “You have to pick one, or every single person on earth will die.”

I thought for a second. “Well…goodbye, world.” We laughed.

“Hang on,” said Mr. Coffee, “How exactly does this act save the world?”

“Well…,” said Nats, stalling momentarily, “There’s a madman and he is going to kill everyone unless you sleep with one of the professors.”

“I’ll take the madman,” I offered, thinking that couldn’t be any worse than the crusty old professors. We laughed at the stupidity and utter pointlessness of this conversation, while Nats said that in her survey of eight people so far, Fuzzy was inexplicably winning.

A little while later, The Duke arrived (he’s Head Sister’s bloke, but he’s not a Sister, so just like the Queen’s husband, I’ve named him The Duke). His arrival coincided nicely with a group at the big table next to us leaving. This also coincided nicely with two lovely middle-aged ladies looking for a table, so we played musical chairs briefly while everyone swapped round. We chit-chatted and laughed and ordered more drinks and food, then Mr. Coffee had to go, but we promised to see each other again soon (I think I’ve only actually met him three times). It was quite noisy in that confined space, so we sometimes struggled to hear each other, fighting against background noise and sore throats from all the laughing. Mid-way through the evening I started to feel restless, knowing that NY Guy was, as far as I know, five minutes down the road. I spoke to Lolly about it and came to the conclusion that calling him and not getting a response would bother me less, than not calling at all and then wondering later whether I should have done. I had to climb up the stairs to get phone reception and got no answer, which I sort of expected. I ended up leaving a message on the second try, feeling that I always have to go through the same motions of this cat-and-mouse game, before I can let it rest. This was my last try, so that there was no way he could blame us not meeting on me. Once I knew I had done what I could, I felt more relaxed, even though it still disappointed me to know that he will always disappoint.

I was starting to feel quite tired by now and the combined effects of the lack of ventilation downstairs, the noise bouncing off the low ceilings and close walls and the small glass of dessert wine I had been given by Head Sister, had resulted in a banging headache. When I returned downstairs, stumble-free, we chit-chatted some more about the latest series of America’s Next Top Model, which Head Sister and The Duke are experts on (which I never would have expected before I got to know her). In response, we all practised ‘smiling with our eyes,’ and pouting and posing, to very little success. They filled me in on what Tyra had described as the “most un-beautiful thing I have seen in this competition,” which I had heard about, but missed. Later, I was slumped back in my throne-chair and Head Sister said “Look, she just falls into model poses!” to which I burst out laughing, finding the thought that my lethargic physical frame, barely able to pull itself out of a slouch, could count as a ‘model pose’ as precisely the reason I could never comfortably work in fashion.

Before we left, The Duke reminded us that we had forgotten to ask Head Sister about the GNOME, which we had been told in an email to do this evening. "Oh, yeah!" we remembered, then bombarded her with enthusiastic requests of ,"What's the GNOME??? Tell us! Tell us about the GNOME!!!" Head Sis and The Duke have always had a core group of good friends that they have regularly met up with, taking it in turns to each pick a venue at which to meet, or an activity to engage in, for their evening of fun together. Most of their friends now have children, so the evenings out have dwindled somewhat, or have morphed into days out, or perhaps more accurately, afternoons or hours out. Since we all meet up now and then but not as regularly as we would perhaps like to, they wondered if we, with their other childless friend (lol) would be part of the group that would engage in Great Nights Of Mysterious Entertainment (GNOME). The 'mysterious' element was simply that we would each take it in turns to arrange the evening's venue or proceedings as a surprise, so that it was a mystery to the others who were attending. We decided that would be a fun idea and a good way to ensure we would get to see each other regularly. "Don't tell them it's really a cult!" said The Duke in hushed tones, giving us a comedy expression of innocence when we looked at him in alarm.

Soon it was time to leave, which felt awkward, as a lady who had been standing with a male companion next to our table realised her bag had been nicked. There had been signs on the way in warning people to watch out for bag thieves and even little notes on each table, but there were obviously pros who targeted the place. A member of the bar staff checked the CCTV and indeed, a man was seen on camera nabbing her bag, who had apparently been in a few days before doing the exact same thing. Luckily the video evidence proved that none of our party were responsible, as it felt a little bit suspicious her announcing the bag theft and then all five of us getting up to make a swift exit, moments later. We managed to clamber up the stairs unhurt, and Lolly and I waited outside while the others had a loo break for the road. The Duke was the first out, seeing as he didn’t have to wait in the obligatory queue for the ladies’. As we waited, he got barged from behind by a lady dressed prematurely (for Halloween) as a witch in a floor-length purple cloak and holding a black pointy hat. She was otherwise completely inconspicuous, with no theatrical make-up, pointy shoes or stripey tights, which made it even more bizarre. She had stumbled up the stairs leading up from the outdoor seating section of the wine bar, talking on her phone and sort of bumping into one of the bar staff. He apologised and steadied her, which she ignored, while saying loudly on her phone, “Sorry, someone just barged into me.” I caught the bar man’s eye and he looked a bit confused at her reaction but gave an awkward smile and I gave him a sympathetic shrug and a smile back.

While waiting for Head Sister and Nats, The Duke suggested we should each make up one rule for the GNOME. He made this suggestion after I had mentioned the GNOME and he had randomly punctuated it with a high-pitched "woo hoo!" noise. "You should have to do that every time someone says 'GNOME'," I jokingly suggested. "Yes, I think we should each be allowed to pick one rule for the GNOME - that can be your rule." Feeling that if I'd known this flippant comment of mine was going to be set in stone, I might have picked a better rule, I tried to rack my brains for a different suggestion that didn't make me sound like I had a mental age of five. Lolly came up with a sterling one. "No violencing," she said. We of course had to take this to the next level and say this is a Mexican accent (no idea why Mexican, especially, it just seemed to fit). "No violencing! No violencing on the gnomés!" Head Sister and Nats eventually joined us and Head Sister came to give me a hug, grabbing me around the neck and almost choking me by putting slightly too much pressure on my trachea than she probably intended. We explained that we were selecting rules for our new society, which Nats embraced with aplomb, giving an impressive "Woo hoo!" complete with hand gestures, every time someone mentioned 'GNOME'. We were still acting well below our ages when we got to the tube station (admittedly only about two minutes' walk away), which is where we parted ways. We exchanged hugs and goodbyes, blew kisses and lamented "I'm missing you already," as we walked in our different directions - Lolly and me to get the tube, Head Sister and The Duke to get the bus and Nats to talk a walk over across the bridge over the river towards the other tube station.

It had been a fun evening, which Lolly and I rounded off by going on a mission to buy iced tea for me at the station (we failed; I randomly got Capri Sun instead) and then having a quick chat while I waited for my train platform to come up. It had been really nice to see them all again, but I hoped that next time Crispy Parsnips would be able to join us (our other male honorary sister who was off work for Halloween, but isn't too well at the moment). The GNOME should be a laugh. I don't think it really matters where we end up, to be honest. The company is always guaranteed to be fabulous and that's the most important thing.