Who would have thought you make so many odd relationships when you writing a little feature for an obscure magazine?
Me and Phil are tight now. He’s the manager of a casino whose views I wanted. I got a lot more; pictures, menus and an invite. The casino is actually only 30 minutes from my house so I could take him up on the offer. I might instead send my cousin, who lives in the same town, to take some pictures. I fear a scruffy eighteen-year-old lad with a cheap digital camera might give the game away though.
Me and Sonali are enemies. I had wheedled a brilliantly snobby quote out of her and she had invited me down to her swanky Mayfair casino to see their new state of the art smoking area. Then I needed pictures. She wanted to see the copy.
“We can never let sources see the unfinished copy. We can’t let them take control.” Roberta had told us. So I refused. I lost my invite. Me and Sonali are enemies.
Me and LCI have an on off thing going on. They’re the UK wing of Caesars Entertainment and own a large swathe of casinos and clubs. None of us seem to like each other, but we seem to have to talk to one another. I think they considered me going to the former manager of one of their closed venues a betrayal, so now everything is strictly business. Shame really as they own playboy club London – would have been a fun freebee.