Smooth Harry

01 Jun 06 @ 09:31 PM  category » adventure

My friend Harry is a character. He loves film festivals, though he has no professional connection to the industry (he's a doctor). He also loves high end parties, and is extremely good at getting into them, invite or not. I think he considers it a sport. He's quite dishy, and he usually gets invited along by some fabulous female film person who takes a shine to him and adopts him for the week.

So I was in Cannes at the tail end of the Festival a few weeks back, hanging out with a friend. I knew Harry was around, and sleeping in a tent on the beach to boot (an added frisson for his sport is to see who will offer him a better place to stay than the place he initially organises) but on this particular night J and I were tired and decided not to go through the shenanigans of trying to meet up with others. My friend Mark, who was working for the week in Monaco for the Grand Prix, but who happened to be organising a flash charity dinner for AmFar at the Eden Roc in Cap D'Antibes that night, had also called to say that maybe J and I should go along to the afterparty but that it might not be possible because the guest list was very strict, and so if at all, if could only be the two of us. So I didn't call Harry to tell him I had arrived in France.

Later, Mark calls to say come on over to the afterparty, and thus I find myself standing there with J and Mark, happily sipping a drink and taking in the sea view, the breeze, and the unbelievable dresses around me. Suddenly I get a tap on my shoulder. I turn around as a laconic voice behind me drawls, "Hello Gaby". Yes, of course, how dumb of me to even think that there could be a party in town that Harry *isn't* at!!!