To a screening of Black Gold, a brilliant documentary about the connection betwen African poverty and unfair trade in the global coffee industry. It hopes to do for Starbucks what Supersize Me did for McDonalds. Everyone who buys coffee should visit www.blackgoldmovie.com.

In the New Piccadilly Cafe, which is handy for The London Library, the band Friends Of The Bride are having their photo taken. They are young and gorgeously dressed in sharp suits, and they say hello to me. I don’t know them, but they saw I mentioned them favourably in the diary.

I’m trying to recall other people who’ve said hello to me in the streets of London lately. They stop me, rather than the other war round. I prefer it that way. I’ve long since banned myself from bothering others. I’m always happy to meet people, but never assume people are always happy to meet me. I think you have to be in a DE mood to say hello to me. Anyway:

Phil King, a friendly foppish muso chap who gets everywhere. Stops me on Oxford Street to say hi. He’s rehearsing with the newly-reformed Jesus & Mary Chain, playing bass. Off to Palm Springs. Beat that, indeed.

Sina Shamsivari, comic artist and illustrator specialising in gay-themed work. He’s now lecturing in Queer Studies. Stops me on Charing Cross Road, and as he does so the drag queen singing in Molly Moggs opposite walks out of the pub and sings to passers by, radio mic in hand. Mr Sina clearly has the power to make a whole street gayer.

Billy, the Glam Lesbian from the post-Romo, Club Kitten days. Stops me at the lights by Angel. I think there was a time when I must have said just the wrong thing to her, because for years I’m sure she blanked me at parties. Then I think I must have said just the right thing to her, because she doesn’t blank me anymore. Anyway, always nice to see her. And anyone. I like being hailed kindly.

As opposed to the other sort of being hailed. Crossing Angel again, a man says “Chase me! Chase me!” in a camp voice to his girlfriend as they pass me. She giggles. Bit of an ancient catcall that one: Duncan Norvelle.

Ah well, I suppose I do dress like an idiot’s idea of a homosexual.

***

Some quotes from Alan Bennett’s The Uncommon Reader:

Patron of the London Library she had seldom set foot in it and neither, of course, had Norman, but he came back full of wonder and excitement at how old-fashioned it was, saying it was the sort of library he had only read about in books and had thought confined to the past. He had wandered through its labyrinthine stacks marvelling that these were all books that he (or rather She) could borrow at will.

Which is entirely true. I got lost in the LL’s stacks on my first visit. Once you become a member, they let you loose among the step ladders and ancient shelves.

On the briefings for people meeting HMQ at the openings of swimming pools and the like:

‘Her Majesty may well ask you if you have had far to come. Have your answer ready and then possibly go on to say whether you came by train or by car… You get the idea? Small talk.’

Mundane though these conversations might be they had the merit of being predictable and above all brief, affording Her Majesty plenty of opportunities to cut the exchange short. That perhaps the most eagerly anticipated conversation of their lives had only amounted to a discussion of the coned-off sections of the M6 hardly mattered. They had met the Queen and she had spoken to them and everyone got away on time.

A couple of already familiar Bennett sayings:

You don’t put your life into books. You find it there.

And, said while HMQ glumly contemplates all the classics she’s never read:

I’ll never catch up.

Joe Orton says this in the Bennett-scripted film Prick Up Your Ears. I’m pretty sure one of The History Boys says it, too. A truly Alan Bennetty sentiment if ever there was one.

It’s also the first time Alan Bennett has written about eBay. Which nearly had me falling off my chair.