Me and TonyFollow

So (as I smugly boasted in an arrogant style in an earlier thread) I was invited to a reception at No. 10 Downing Street.

Most of you will skip right now, but I've had a few requests for an update so if you can put up with my self-righteous meanderings, here goes.

In January an official looking envelope arrived on my desk. My PA always opens my mail and filters out those that can be dealt with by my assistants or that can be filed in the circular floor-mounted filing cabinet (or 'trash basket') and just hands me private or urgent stuff. On this case, she handed me the envelope and hovered around to see my reaction.

The envelope contained a card which was part-printed and part hand-written (in immaculate calligraphy):


For those illiterate Yanquis that don't know; 10 Downing Street is the UK equivalent of the Whitehouse: official residence of our Prime Minister.

I made a phone call to check it wasn't a prank. It wasn't.

So on the day. . .

I arrived at Downing Street at the appointed time, and was priveliged to admire the high velocity automatic weapons of Her Majesty's security services and enjoy a rather intimate search, X-Ray screening and ID check.

I arrived at the door of No 10 and asked the cop on guard if I should just wait.

"No, just knock sir" He said

I strode up to the black door, saw the polished brass letter box engraved with "First Lord of the Treasury" and rapped the large, Lion's Head door Knocker.

The door swung open and I was ushered into the Entrance Hall. I surrendered my cell phone and waited to be given a glass of warm orange juice, pointed to a distant Prime Minister giving a bland speech and then sent on my way. I'd assumed that this would be a quick PR exercise, but I was pleasantly surprised. . .

I was pointed to the Grand Staircase. Famous here as having signed portraits of every Prime Minister for the last couple of hundred years. With each step I was in Awe - Pitt, Gladstone, Disraeli, Churchill, Thatcher. . . I was stepping through History.

At the top of the stairs I was offered the choice of Juice, Red wine or White Wine. Niiiice.

Guided into the Pillared Room, I joined a few dozen other Healthcare folks who seemed as awe-struck as I was.

The home of the Prime Minister! Churchill made his wartime speeches from here! Ministers had sat right here debating how to deal with those damned colonials threatening Independence over in Massachussets. In this very room, two World Wars were prosecuted .

I was talking to a couple of colleagues by the door when a burly security chap gently guided me to one side. As I turned, a hand was thrust towards me. I returned the handshake instinctively before realising that it was Mr Blair.

He smiled, and for 10 minutes made small-talk with me and the two friends I was with. He was relaxed, charming and clearly knew what he was talking about. I (despite my innate cynicism) was genuinely impressed. He thanked me for the hard work (he knew my name, but I assume that was down to good briefing from his advisors) and wished me luck, before moving on to chat with another small huddle of guests.

After half an hour of mingling, an assistant banged a Gavel to "Pray silnce for the Right Honourable Tony Blair, Prime Minister of Great Britain and Northern Ireland"

He stood on a platform and made a witty speech which we all smiled at (He could've said anything and we'd have applauded) but he spoke with real passion. In concluding, he said he had a heavy day ahead, so would have to leave, but thanked us all for coming and suggested we enjoy the hospitality and have a nice wander around the house.

For about 45 minutes, ever-replenished glass in hand, I and a friend strolled from room to room, soaking in the history that oozed from every painting, sofa and statue. We sat in chairs that had accommodated Presidents, Kings and other dignitaries.

As we left, we were each handed a souvenir guide to the building, signed in the front cover "With gratitude for your service, Tony Blair"

My colleague and I then went out with her husband and a girfriend of mine and got totally shi[Azure][/Azure]t-faced at a Mayfair Hotel.

A night I'll never forget.

Foursome?

In all seriousness, I'm quite envious. Must have been a great experience.

I think we need more detials about this part. 2 ********* upity ladies in a hotel room makes for a rather interesting evening.

I am going to totally ignore the fact that you schmoozed with the Priminister since green really isn't my colour.

Get the hell out of my head before I force you out with a drill.

I'd like to see you try!!

The only true comment that I have is that the thread title now has me singing "Me and Julio." I could ***** about it, but it's one hell of a catchy ditty that I haven't heard in some time. Maybe I'll download it, along with some other Paul Simon tracks. Thanks Nobby, for the indirect benefit.

sounds like a beautiful night. I would have been stuck on the stairs for hours, ogling at all of the protraits of former Prime Ministers.

But a signed brochure?? What happened to engraved money clips filled with cash?

As per my mispost in another thread...


Hey Nobbs, so you got invited to this but the Queen and the Princes were not? How'd you manage that?

Well done Nobby. The most I could ever hope for would be a fateful hunting trip with our VP.

I have so many questions.... gee, where to begin? When you talked to him, did he stare at your avatar the whole time? Who the hell is Pitt, Gladstone, Disraeli? Is your PA hawt?