14 July 2016, 4 pm
My posh frock has been following me round all day in a suit carrier, and looks bedraggled. I decide that my hotel is not the type that will lend me an iron and so the best way to deal with the creases is to lie down heavily on the frock like a kind of human trouser press. I am quite pleased with the result, which is that I fall asleep for half an hour and wake to find that the frock has been pleated into the shape of a corpse. So now it is time to put on the pleated corpse and pretend to be sociable. For this I need gin. But the hotel does not look like the type that will lend me a minibar either. Unlucky Gary was under strict instructions to keep the cost down and I am just grateful he remembered to book me a bedroom as well as a wardrobe.
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