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Tuesday, August 24, 2004

The Lulu And The Ivy

Due to an unfortunate scheduling error, the Wife and I have our anniversary one day before my birthday. Which is today. I'm currently hiding my hands in a pair of opera-style gloves because I fear that any second they will look like Madonna's withered claws.

But first, yesterday's anniversary really should be commented on. The Wife really outdid himself, and the evening consisted of:

The Ivy
Followed by champagne
Followed by sticky toffee pudding
Followed by Miss Universe on Living TV
Followed by bed.

Best thing ever.

For those of you who live outside Zone 6 or in one of our more exciting colonies, The Ivy is a restaurant that is nigh-on impossible to get a booking in - one of those celeb haunts where you're more than likely to be sitting next to Cher when you eat. The Wife and I have a long-standing love of The Ivy ever since we discovered Scouse popstrell Lulu may actually live in there. Well, we've discovered she's long since left to go and take up residence in The Century Club, leaving the Ivy with no resident lush. We got chatting to the waiter who said that they had hatched a desperate attempt to gain a-list recognition once again, and tried to clone her from a stray lock of red hair left in her booth.

Alas, the experiment wasn't a complete success, and rather than one carrot-tinted songstress to woo the crowds, they were left with around fifty, one-foot-tall Lulus. These gremlins run around everywhere, hanging from the light-fittings, and nicking your side dishes when you're not looking. When you're seated, you're given an ornate brush called a Lulu-Broom, and actively encouraged to thwack the red-headed monsters off the chandeliers. All you can see when seated is the bob-bob-bob of the top of several scarlet hair-do's, scampering between the tables and trying to trip the waiters. Little monkeys.

And the rather calming atmosphere of our romantic meal was often halted by the sound of another Lulu falling into the UV electric traps scattered around the place: 'Wee-eee-eeee-eeee-eee-BBZZZZZT!' It made for a rather amusing evening.

And we can heartily recommend the sticky toffee pudding.

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