The venue was hosting both a formal library conference and a small thrash metal event and I was unwilling to commit to either.
In the break-out room Christian Slater and I locked eyes and – without needing to speak – we had agreed to play a board game called Pirates. Christian convinced a member of staff we needed to set up the game in a library delegate’s bedroom and we needed cocktails and plenty of them.
By the time the delegate discovered us in her room, we had thrown a lot of glittery confetti and rock salt in her suitcase and in her bed. When confronted Christian gave a blatantly false name – Sir Ralph Richardson – and wandered off. I followed him and boomed across the venue – “Christian Slater, get here right now and bring a dustpan and brush.”