Tuesday night I braved the 101 yet again – but this time was stuck on the freeway for almost two hours. I passed three different rear-end accidents – but I suspect they were caused by the traffic and not the progenitors of.

Beverly had invited me to a meet and greet with 300 of Britain’s elite from the music industry. When I finally arrived at my destination I saw the Suits entering the (what must be in the range of) $15 million Beverly Hills mansion owned by the British Consulate (consular?) General and took a big gulp. It had taken me 15 minutes to figure out how to tie a tie earlier and I couldn’t find a pair of pants that my waist (bigger than last year – smaller than two years ago) could fit into.

I found a video editor friend of Beverly’s and we both chatted each other up about how we didn’t know anyone and weren’t used to dressing this way or talking to these sorts of people. After an hour or so Beverly appeared and we started moving in and out of the social circles at the event. Our conversations consisted mostly of Beverly chatting up these millionaires for the chance to spring her business card – and me watching in awe at her proficiency therein.

It was one of those things where there is a live jazz band, everyone stands on the grass (yes, grass, in an LA backyard), and waiters come around with catering and drinks every five seconds. I neglected to try the skewered shrimp with peanut sauce, but the beef and mint was good as were the small lamb shanks.