moving in esteemed circles

Seeing a policeman with a gun always freaks me out, especially when it's a big one. Walking up to the House of Commons yesterday, where I attended a meeting organised by Andrew over at B4L about political blogging, I clocked, turning into the security area, that strange sight of a young copper with a large gun hooked over his shoulder. To get in to the Parliament building, in these post-Otis Ferry times, one needs to go through a little portakabin and be patted down, as well as having bags and phones scanned. I'm used to this at airports but it's strangely disconcerting doing so before going into our house of elected representatives. Hilariously, they stopped Damian, up ahead of me, noting that he appeared to have a knife in his bag. 'Can we examine that, Sir', they asked, sternly. His swiss army knife was duly produced, fingered by the security staff, and returned to him. We were ushered into the building. Good to know that the House of Commons security people are thorough and mindful of potential stabbers.

Once inside, we dispensed with the necessary business of the evening and devoted our time, as swiftly as possible, to persuading the very impressive Tom Watson MP (who later announced, "if you'll excuse me, I have to go and support my government for a change") to let us into a House of Commons bar and start haranguing the inmates. We were duly led through labyrinthine corridors to the small, well-lit and exceedingly cheap Lords Bar, which was populated with a few MPs and groups of earnest young researchers, and which stocked House of Lords branded Port behind the bar. It is, needless to say, very exciting having a drink there, and I fought an urge to text every single one of my friends boasting 'I'm getting drunk in the House of Lords'. Alright, I did let one or two know...

Had a really good evening actually, and greatly enjoyed meeting some people I've known or known of online for years but never met in the flesh 'til now. The whole experience was very positive and while I'm probably no closer to returning my vote to the Labour party, I'm definitely considering faking it and joining Bloggers4Labour so that I get to spend more evenings in such illustrious surroundings.

I should mention, in case anyone thinks my loyalties are wavering, however, that it was still a wrench to spend an evening away from my beloved local, The Crescent, and although it cannot offer quite so much in the way of ornate decoration, the bar-stuff have nothing to fear from my flirtation with high society.