after work on friday i headed to wahaca in soho to meet two of my london faves for a farewell dinner. one of them - no names, cos it's still a secret from her family, is leaving london in the coming days, and this was to be our last supper. wah! we'd planned to have a spot of dinner, and maybe a cocktail or two before she heads off on her next big adventure, and wahaca was where it all began...
we kicked off with mexican cocktails, some pork tacos and a loveheart on the menu, lots of talk of travel plans, holidays and bad flight stories (not the best idea). with full bellies and slightly dizzy heads, we packed up, paid and headed out to our next destination...
we took full advantage of the last call of happy hour at b@1 on great windmill street, made friends with the slightly drunk woman who was the only other person singing and dancing along to the strangest mix tape of all time, drank our ice cream cocktails, and then moved on. it was a whirlwind thirty minutes. we then made our way to the piccadilly institute, where we lapped up their extended happy hour; bottles of wine, more cocktails and a lot of dancing on the disco dancefloor ensued, and the night concluded with me racing to make my last train just after half eleven. i don't dance very well; i have no rhythm. but as soon as the spice girls or backstreet boys or s club 7 comes on in decadia, i am the person on the d-floor with all the moves. well, i still have no good moves, but i become less worried about it.
for a night that was supposed to be bloody sad and waahhy, i had an amazing time; laughing, drinking and dancing the night away with some great girls in my favourite place in the world... something that i know i take for granted, especially now that i won't be able to do them with her anymore. sadfaaaaaace.
love your whole head miss.
