How the world turns! Last week I was stuck in stinky dog land, and only a few days later I'm hob-nobbing with true blue New York rock stars. Yes, that's right, ROCK STARS! From NEW YORK! Friday night was looking fairly dreary with the middle-aged neighbourhood drunkards converging for their weekly dose of overbearing and competitive 'joviality'. I was blocking out their presence in the bleary bliss of TV land, and I had abandoned any attempt at enlivening the situation in favour of my unoriginally hermetic default position, until a lovely friend called offering free tickets to the Interpol show that night at the Corner Hotel. And for free! Ka-ching! I felt so glamourous stepping out of the downpour past the hefty bouncers and, pausing to flick away the rivulets of rain from my glistening brow, unconcernedly informing the door girls that my friend [insert name drop here] had left two tickets for us at the door. Breezily, I allowed my bearing to communicate that, yes, we were very accustomed to this sort of occurence actually, as it happened all the time, thank you very much. It was a bloody great gig too. The crowd was remarkably well-dressed. It was rermarked on. And after the show we met up with our insider to watch the band play pool! As if they were normal people or something! It was all very restrained of course, because, you know, we're that cool. Interpol are a great band, brilliant even. In fact, they're Gods... not that I'm impressed or anything. Although I do have it on good authority from a respected source that the bass player is a total sweetheart. Nice one.