It was all going so well in the Black Cap. There was disco, there was vodka, and I was happily flirting with a gay scoutmaster.
Suddenly, Sandra the drag queen was cut off mid rant by a loud ringing of bells. "Christ!" she roared, "It's Matalan again - Tell 'em I was just seeing what it would look like outside the shop."
Then there was the smoke, the smell of burning and a quick exit. Half of us ended up out on the pavement, and the other half were bundled out of the fire exit to the M&S car park.
Out on the pavement, Lee and I cadged champagne from fag hags ("I broke me nose on me high heels," one claimed), and waited for the firmen.
They turned up, to tuts of disappointment.
Lee grabbed his phone. "Hello, 999? We asked for pretty firemen. Send more. With pizza."
I dragged Lee round to the fire exit at the back, so that I could find the scoutmaster in the crowd penned in in the M&S carpark. It was strangely like visiting him in prison. Yeah, he had a boyfriend, but it was kind of fun chatting to him through the bars. I checked my pockets, but didn't have a nail file or anything useful to pass him.
The prisoners were fairly calm. Most of the gay men were snogging and smoking. The lesbians were giving each other rides in shopping trolleys.