I have just glanced at the 'Tally' category, in order to remind me how I'm faring in my bet. Answer, not brilliantly. I DID notice, however, that meetings that I have either had or have arranged, now number fourteen.
It therefore thankfully seems, and mercy be to him upstairs (and I don't mean Mr Rumsey in flat 4), that neither Michael nor myself will be forced to skinny dip in the sea off Brighton Pier during the mid-winter (see 'forfeits'), and there will be no bearing of our souls, in a manner of speaking.
Yesterday I met theatre impresario Bill Kenwright in Maida Vale.
Initially I feared that I would be late because when I went to pick up Michael, who insists on taking the photos, and who unfortunately owns the camera, I found 'dozing-boy' asleep on his sofa. It was, after all, only 3.00pm. Shouting ensued, until Michael rolled off to have a shower, whilst I sank into the huge crevices in the sofa cushions where he had been lying.
As it turned out we made it to the meeting 25 minutes early and whilst standing by my car supping on Original Tropicana with juicy bits, and debating which building we were supposed to be going into, we saw Bill Kenwright walking up the street towards us, possibly midway through his afternoon constitutional. After brief introductions, the handshake was performed there and then, and we were also promised a couple of tickets to a West End show to put towards the RNIB charity auction. A most generous gift indeed.
I hereby kindly thank Bill Kenwright for knocking one more person of my list of 500 to meet and for his kind donation. I also thank his assistant Emma who set everything up, and who has been most industrious and angel-like.