Super Bowl And The Bottomless Mimosas

It's sunday morning, I still have last night's make up on and I look ten years older than I did yesterday. Even the dogs, who normally greet me with manic enthusiasm, are giving me a wide berth. I skype with my niece in Malta.

'The whites of my eyes are slightly yellow, the antacid pills aren't working anymore and my piss looks like tango. I half expect it to come out with a lime wedge attached.'

She laughs at me which always makes me feel immediately better and asks what my plans are for the day.

I slump. We're having brunch. This means more booze and before lunchtime.There was some sinister talk about a 'Bottomless Mimosas' deal.

'And of course it's the Super Bowl today,' she informs me perkily.

She squints at me.

'You do know what a Super Bowl is don't you?'

'….sport thing...?'

'Good luck.'

Christine comes to fetch us. I don't even bother with make up. I just cover what I can of my face with my Elvis shades and put on my 'Los Fucking Angeles' T – Shirt which sort of sums it all up really.

'Where are we going?' I ask as we clamber in to the taxi. (It's not actually a taxi, it's something called an – I Think – Uber. You find someone in a car nearby on an app and pay them to drive you somewhere by credit card. They're just people. Not taxi drivers.)

'We're going to church,' Lips says.

At this point I'd welcome it to be honest.

We get to our destination. A restaurant called 'The Church Key' – very funny Lips.

We go in and find Gasparin waiting for us. Gasparin is a lovely man from Venezuela who lives here and has just participated in a new TV show called “Ellen's Design Challenge”. It's a reality TV show in which six interior designers battle it out with each other making fabulous things with the end goal being a cash prize and a spread in a design magazine.

The show has just started airing and we attended the first showing. Gasparin is riding the wave of excitement about it all and I let him chat to his friends for a full 45 seconds before draping my arm around his shoulder and saying:

'So, Ellen. As fabulous as I think she is? Or a monster?'

He tells me all about the show and her (she's even lovelier in person) and a nice young woman with a trolley approaches us and makes a round of Mimosas for the table. (Yeah, 17 dollars for as much as you can drink. It would have been rude not to. Which reminds me of something Keir once said: Well, at least Thea died doing what she loved – being polite.)

I have my first ever biscuits and gravy breakfast with sunny side up eggs and turkey sausages. S'goooood. We then have these ludicrous brioche donuts for dessert. I now know what sin tastes like. I finish my (insert quantity of choice here: __) mimosa and we say bye to Gasparin and Lips who has another meeting with clients. Stephen, Christine and I get another car and go to a restaurant called something mexican where we are greeted by a woman who used to be Miss Nevada and is now a tequila rep. Christine knows EVERYONE in the booze related world. And she is hilarious. We've been in each others company for a couple of hours and have spent most of it laughing.

Miss Nevada/Tequila Rep greets us warmly.

'I'm so glad you could drop by! I hear you have a bit a day planned so I'm real happy to be able to pour some tequila on you before you head off.'

We are given margaritas which are the best I've had. Christine turns to me super casual:

'Shot?'

'Sure.'

'Oh lord,' Stephen mutters.

She's like an evil twin and I just know if I spent a significant amount of time with her she would ruin me. And I wouldn't complain.

'The bar we're watching the game at is....dark. There are like NO windows. It'll be great.'

We get in another randomly driven car and this time we have a man from New York with us. He's promoting a brazilian drink and I can't for the life of me remember his name. I'll call him 'Fun Bob.'

The bar – Three Clubs – is indeed dark and reminds me more of an Irish Pub. There's food everywhere. Popcorn, pizza, burgers, big bowls full of M&M's, Haribo and peanuts.

The barman, Jo, is another good friend of Christine. I take one look at him and turn to Stephen who now seems to have the ability to read my mind:

'Yep, he would have been perfect for you. He's just your type. You're too late though. I checked and he is wearing a wedding band.'

Jo tells us about his baby Henry who has croup and then tells us, at Christine's insistence, a great joke he made up.

'How many mixologists does it take to screw in a lightbulb? -

Well, that all depends on what level of light you want and what kind of voltage you're working with. I mean how many power sockets do you have and what kind of room are you lighting? Will you be having a dimmer switch or a regular.......'

He just keeps going with variables. He's funny. Dammit.

I obviously know absolutely nothing about sports so Stephen gives me two stock phrases to repeat at anyone who steps in to my path:

'Go Patriots!'

And:

'How about that Tom Brady huh....'

I try it out a few times and people slap me on the back and say things like 'Hell yeah!' And 'I know right!'

Christine spots some stickers with beer bottles on them and her face lights up.

'Are those transfer tattoos?!'

Jo shakes his head.

'Stickers. I know right, almost cool.'

'Got anything for me?' She asks.

He hands her a novelty double straw. She rips the packaging open and thrusts it into her cocktail.

'Don't you threaten ME with a good time!' She downs the drink.

I haven't bought her a drink at all since meeting her and feel that now is the time.

'Fancy a shot of tequila?'

'Sure! Tequila or...MESCAL!?'

I think Mescal might be the answer she's looking for. We get one for Jo too. Shot glasses aren't even shot sized here. It's just a glass of pure spirits. Stephen point blank refuses to partake in this madness.

We switch to beers for a while. And then back to cocktails. There's some mixologist joke going on between her and Jo to do with Apple-tinis which I'm gathering are a pain to make. Now ALL I want is an Apple-tini. Jo is a good sport and makes us a round. Then there's some more shots. Another Apple-tini. At some point Fun Bob disappears and comes back with a whole bunch of tacos and mexican food which we eat like savages. (Stephen insists he saved us from a much worse fate by bringing that well timed snack).

The game goes on in the background and at some point Katy Perry arrives on the back of a mythical beast.

By the time Lips gets out of his meeting and joins us we're talking largely in clicks and hoots.

'We missed you! We love youuuuuuuu!'

'Oh Gawd,' he mutters and gets a beer.

Christine has been talking all day periodically about 'When you move to LA.' She would literally kill me. In about a week. She says she can get me a job. Zoe has also offered the possibility of some writing work for her company. Lips does that Jewish shrug of his. 'I can see you here.' Stephen too is onboard. 'You have talents. You could achieve something great here.'

Truth is I couldn't live so far from my family. I'd miss them so much. But I might return for a few months if there was some work for me. I could see that happening. LA has a way of seducing you in to believing anything is possible.

When I wake the next morning I know for a fact that I will not be drinking today.

I go downstairs and find Stephen leaning heavily against the kitchen counter. For the first time since I arrived he doesn't look like he stepped out of a catalogue.

'Ha Ha! You look like shit!'

His head slides down in to his hands and his shoulders shake gently.

'You are killin' me girl.'

I feel a little smug. I've broken Stephen.

'Ahm just gonna take the dogs for a walk and then we'll take you over to Calvin for your singing lesson okay.'

He smiles at me with pure evil.