Got to read some confidential scripts for an upcoming project.
Travelled a long way to read them, signed a piece of paper, and then got to sit in a room with them.
Each page had my name embossed on it. Which was strangely thrilling and intimidating.
Owing to the nature of the piece of paper, however, I cannot discuss the contents of the scripts with anyone. Which instantly becomes frustrating when sat in a pub.
They gave me the option of taking the scripts away with me. Which seemed like suicide. Last year, in a similar situation, my boss promptly left a Dr Who script on the train.
And then sent his assistant hunting for it at a London Transport Lost Property Office. Manned by a Dr Who fan. With hilarious consequences.