My mind has been known to wander aimlessly and has recently found itself planning The Ultimate Dinner Party. (I am the first to admit that more pressing matters need addressing – for example an essay worth fifty percent of my grade – but such matters are boring and will be dealt with at a later date.)
I will invite the following (I am aware that at least two of these individuals no longer live, but this matters not to one’s dreams):
- Keith Richards
- James Franco
- Ernest Hemingway
- Sarah Jessica Parker
- Patti Smith
- Dizzee Rascal
- Frida Kahlo
- Ricky Martin
- Tupac (otherwise known as 2pac)
- Emma Watson
I will spend the day preparing slow-cooked lamb to be served with a yoghurt dressing, and numerous salads from Yotam Ottolenghi’s vegetarian cookbook, Plenty. Emma Watson will kindly offer to bring dessert (apparently she makes a kick-ass chocolate fudge) and Ernest will insist on bringing three bottles of ancient malt whiskey from his cellar. I will supply enough bottles of red to feed a country, and perhaps mulled-wine if the weather permits.
Ernest and Frida will hit it off immediately. They will play footsies beneath the table all night, and will depart together by taxi in the early hours of the morning. After first course, Keith, Patti and Dizzee will give an impromptu rendition of Lorde’s song ‘Royals’. Ricky will ask Sarah Jessica to dance, and they will surprise us all with their flawless tango. James will try on Sarah Jessica’s metallic heels (which will fit him perfectly), and Emma will teach him to walk like the strong independent woman that he is.
Somewhere around 1am after dessert, Tupac will announce his date of return later in the year, and we will celebrate with shots of the finest rum, brought by Ricky from Puerto Rico. Tupac and Keith will brainstorm plans for a joint World Tour in 2015, and James will suggest that he and I join them on the road (to which, of course, I will say yes). Patti will spontaneously recite a six stanza poem about the evening as the sun begins to rise. Emma and I will get teary, and Ricky will lend us his daisy embroidered handkerchief. Ernest will stand to make a toast, but will trip over his chair and become momentarily concussed (luckily Sarah Jessica is trained in First Aid).
Everyone will leave at around 8am, except for James who will be invited to spend the remainder of the night in my bed.
…and that’s all I’ve planned so far.