Hello. It’s late, I’m hung-over and tired and Apprentice is on in twenty minutes, so I’ll keep this brief; I drank Jimmy Page under the table last night. I was hosting the Brighton Music Awards at the Brighton Centre last night and our Guests of Honour were Roger Daltrey and Jimmy Page; rock royalty indeed.
'Let the games commence.'
The after show party was at the Grand Hotel, a very grand hotel. Daltry pulled out (no doubt mindful of my wild partying reputation) but Page stayed on. There were a lot of people down there but I kept a close eye on him throughout the evening, determined to drink this living legend under a posh Grand Hotel table. He went to the bar, I soon followed. He took his time with a drink, so did I. I matched his drinking pattern, almost identically, until the crucial moment arrived; Page went to bed. Yes! One more drink and I can say, ‘I drank Jimmy Page under the table.’ I had half a lager and I was done. I was triumphant, Page was cleaning his teeth. Victory was mine.
Until, that is, the next day, when I discovered Jimmy Page doesn’t drink. His tumbler glasses, looking like neat vodka from afar, were simply small glasses of Sussex spring water. Bugger. So, it wasn’t really a drinking competition at all.
But I still drank Jimmy Page under the table, right?