Two hours later. Where am I now? A flat. There is music on – ‘Blister in the Sun’ by the Violent Femmes – and most people are dancing, apart from me and one man, who is bald and talking to me by a small marble side table covered in drug detritus. I suppose I am trying my best to look very, very infertile. I feel like Frankenstein – nose stuck to my head; leg in my armpit. It is dark but – oh god is that daylight outside the window? No, it’s just reflected light, thank Christ – there is a piece of neon on the wall opposite that says CRYWANK in Tracey Emin font, bright pink. The bald man is called Konrad, I think, I think, but it doesn’t matter because his current raison d’être is telling me why this is his favourite song ever and why he has chosen to put it on. It seems there is no end to his reason but really I can’t wait for him to shut the fuck up so I can start telling him about MY favourite song, which is actually from this century. I nod, encouraging him – to finish and shut the fuck up. He goes on, and then it slips out at one point that he works as a hospital porter.

‘I don’t judge you for that,’ I say. Mainly to just infiltrate the monologue.

‘No,’ he says, ‘why would you?’

I say: ‘Some of the most intelligent people I’ve known have worked as porters.’ Is this true? Who cares!

‘I’m from Poland originally,’ he says.

‘What’s that brilliant fucking phrase,’ I say, grasping for it, holding the conch – he looks annoyed as he tosses his head and says with me: ‘Not my circus not my monkeys.’

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘I really fucking hate that phrase.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah. Why do we not want to look after each other any more? My grandmother, who was a woman who taught me everything I know, said it’s all my circus and all my monkeys. And I think we’ve really got to band together and sort out these monkeys because man, these monkeys are everywhere. When did loving other people more than yourself start to become such a bad thing? All this “self-care” bullshit is just about buying things. It’s because society has let you down and you’re burnt out, so you’re going to throw money at the problem and reinforce the very thing destroying you.’

I have decided I like Konrad a lot. I also feel like I am struggling to compete, and I despise him for that. Imagine meeting someone at a party who is more intelligent than you. Surefire way to ruin your whole fucking night. ‘How old are you?’ I say. ‘You’re not in your twenties, I can tell.’

‘How can you tell?’

‘You’re not dancing.’

‘Neither are you.’