Ok, some of my twitter followers probably know a little of this story but here it is, more for my records than anything...
Once upon a time, two girls went out for birthday drinks. Rebecca and I hit the House Bar in Stramillis and had planned to go out dancing after a cocktail. We arrived and settled in to seats at the bar (never a good idea) and we flirted with the barmen and got them to make custom cocktails (my key lime martini is better) and renaming others- who wants to drink a mangopolitan? Mangotini's are far more fun. Since it was Rebecca's birthday we were counting down the minutes until she turned 23 and making a fair bit of noise! After a while flirting with Chris (who's a doctor) the owner of the bar (Christine Bleakley's ex) came over to us and sat next to me. We were chatting away about how we both did PR and I thought he was an idiot for trying to make the Warehouse (on Boucher Rd) successful- his comeback? Well Tomb Street was out of city centre when I opened milk. No amount of me saying that I lived near the Boucher Rd and wouldn't step foot in it alone in the dark would change his mind, more fool him.
Shortly after the clock struck midnight, we reached for our mangotini's only to find Champagne and strawberries in their place. And not the type of champagne that tastes like cat pee, proper Veuve Clicquot and it was tasty. It was all like something from a James Bond movie- very slick and a little odd now that I look back.
So we drank our champers while the owner drank a beer. After a while, the bar closed and we stayed put. Next thing I knew, I was heading out the back door of the bar into a black range rover (such a cliche) and this dude (who btw, I can't remember his name) said he'd take us home. So Rebecca and I had drank too many cocktails and champagne and he was sober. At this stage I should have probably realised it was all a little odd. He ended up driving us to his house, somewhere near forestside. Nice house, all gated, 3 cars in driveway including a Porche. We went inside and started snooping. It was like an episode of Come Dine With Me. We were in his closet, in his bathroom, his fridge. EVERYWHERE!
Next thing I remember is stomping down the stairs and demanding that he calls two taxi's (because we live so far apart). No less than 4 taxi's trying to get into his gated house met us, me outside yelling at him to open the gates :S Next day, I realise he's really tried it on with Rebecca and we most definitely had a lucky escape.
Creepy creepy dude, bringing two drunk girls home after plying them with booze and him remaining sober then trying it on. I don't know if we can ever go back to the House, but Chris the doctor was lovely and worth another visit, so we shall see.