This post could also be entitled ‘my bloody awful week’. But I’ve learnt a lesson: look more carefully into things before I agree to them.
“hundreds of tickets, in fact put the prices up!”
I stuck with the same price. A week before the tea, we’d only sold 8 tickets. I find it really embarrassing have to tweet about selling tickets. Fortunately most of the rest sold just after my appearance on BBC breakfast news. She claimed that it was due to her tweeting about her #macarons. Yeah right. In fairness her macarons were the best thing she baked. But there weren’t enough for everyone.
“They will just have to share” she pronounced.
“But I’m part of the festival” I said “people are expecting me, and I’m supposed to give a talk.”
The market manager shrugged.
“So shall I just go home then?”
“Yeah, if you want” he said and walked away.
“Excuse me…what IS that?”pointing to the floor.
I looked down and saw one of the sanitary towels had fallen out.
“I’m so sorry” I stammered, my lip trembling “I’ve had such a terrible day” I continued as I bent down to throw it away.
“I’ve just been to the most wonderful lunch at Pierre Koffman’s pop up restaurant on the Selfridges roof. Tonight I’m eating at the London Eye in one of the pods.”
I shivered as I listened to this. I wished I could afford to go to these places. It’s the London Restaurant Festival’s first year, there would be teething problems. But all of these other restaurants are established and financially backed. They were making money. As a one woman operation I cannot really afford to lose money. I must have lost about £500 plus I’d cancelled Saturday’s dinner to have time to do this. But as Simon explained
“We are dependent on third parties such as Covent Garden market”
Simon bought a jar of salsa as a sop to my feelings. I understand that Covent Garden had some kind of accident cutting off the electricity that morning (but just to my section) but I actually checked beforehand about this as I had regularly heard reports about power cuts there.
“That’s no longer a problem” the Covent Garden PR lady firmly assured me.
‘The reason I started the Underground Restaurant is because I can’t afford to go to most of the restaurants promoted by this festival’….
‘I have to go home to do my coursework. I’m cold and hungry’.
“She’s in her bedroom, calling Childline (on repeat dial) no doubt”
“Cool, can I watch?” (Can you imagine a woman asking a gay man that?)
“are you one of the fraternity?”
“We don’t mind but you looked a bit scruffy”