20 November 2015
OK, so dinner is not all I did. Those who know me well also know that I rarely turn down an opportunity to sample a whisky or three. Especially if I am cruelly goaded into doing so by friendly patent attorneys who ought to know better. I believe we sampled a few, between us, and also I believe we conducted a highly scientific experiment into the effect of a drop of water on a good malt. There was a control and everything; it was a great experiment. I think I may have drunk too much of the placebo. Anyway, food poisoning or spiked drink or sheer stupidity, whatever the cause, I spend most of today in my hotel room, or more particularly, in the ensuite part of it. My body is finding its own toxin-eliminating strategy, and it does not involve hot lava shells. Like a patent attorney desperately failing to meet a deadline, I ring the hotel front desk three times to extend my late checkout pass. I never make it to Day Two of the conference. I only just make it home. I am deeply embarrassed. Not only is this undignified, it is also bad for street cred. Usually I can take my alcohol. Now at every dinner and conference I attend, people will be goading me into conducting whisky tasting experiments, just to see how many days they can knock me out for.
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