The BOSS walks toward me.

''Mr D* would you be kind enough to give JS a call?''

I look at him.

JS is the company chairman.

The really, really, really BIG cheese.

''Ok. What have I done?'' I ask.

''Nothing.'' he replies. ''He just wants to talk to you about the forecast for period 2 next year seeing as your now the General Manager of the hotel..''

I burst out laughing.

I know exactly what he was referring too.

The previous night I had been talking to G on the telephone.

I wandered around the office and at one point sat down in the BOSSES chair.

It overlooks the street with a big, half moon window.

And then swung backwards and forwards like kid.

I didn't realise that the chef had taken a picture of me doing this from outside the hotel.

And had obviousely shown it to the BOSS.

Who had found it quite amusing.

Well, it is kinda funny.

And it is the best chair in the hotel.....

It's the half way point of the conference, so how are we doing?

The first couple of days were an anti-climax, to be frank.

This event has been in our collective psyche for over a year and has been planned down to the last detail.

What was an abstract concept was slowly given form and became more concrete.

Planning meetings became more and more regular and there was even a countdown to the event itself on the office wall.

Expectations were high.

To say the least.

The police arrived at T-MINUS 2 days and the hotel was closed. They searched the entire place over and over.

The island site - or the 'Ring of Steel' came into operation at T-MINUS 1 day.

'Ring of Steel'.

When 'G' called it that I sniggered.

'cause I am sooo mature.

The PM arrived Saturday, as did all the other bigwigs. I saw him for the first time walking down the central staircse, surrounded by an entourage of police officers and I was struck by how tall he was.

I imagined him to be shorter.

His presence in the hotel was very transactional, simply entering and leaving, unlike the others who have mingled in this reception and that, smiling and shaking hands.

As I say, the first few days were not what we expected, they were quieter than they should be.

Until tonight.

Tonight the event has really kicked in and the hotel has been swinging.

And I like it when it is like that, the hotel is alive with the hustle and bustle.

It looks fantastic, a fusion of glass and marble spotlighted and reflected that gives it a fairytale air.

All the conference rooms in use, the bar full, 500 attending a Guardian media event on the ground floor...

Suits and uniforms mixing.

Kinnock posing for a picture with Brown, Prescott moving quickly through the lobby and Cherie smiling and waving to a known face in the crowd.

As I write this it's 3am in the morning and I have sat down for the first time. I have an ache in the small of my back and my feet are beginning to get sore.

So at the half way point, how are we doing?

We're doing fine.

Thanks for asking.

Now bring on the rest....

I still find the sight of an English policeman with a gun a bit jarring.

It just looks completely wrong, unnatural.

I get that it's necessary, I get that the climate we live in today is like, a gazillion miles from the Dickson of Dockgreen world of the street corner 'Bobby'.

I get that.

Really I do.

But I still don't like it.

''Your the best thing since sliced bread'' I tell 'G' via the magic that is MSN Messenger.

I'm at work, it's the afternoon and he is already home.

I have MSN installed on my desktop, even though our networks are closed.

Having the IT guy report to you has it's advantages.

''Your the best thing since M&S Yorkshire Puds'' he replies.

I smile to myself.

Mmmmmm M&S Yorkshire puds.

WOW.

That is some compliment.

Kevin Smith is back on form.

And it's a form that has been a long time coming.

Check the record;

Clerks
Mallrats
Chasing Amy
Dogma
Jay and Silent Strike Back
Jersey Girl

Clerks was a cool movie, it was daring and had balls, just like it's writer/director.

Mallrats just doesn't work. On every level it simply does not work. But thats okay, we can forgive.

Chasing Amy has heart. It's good story about the conflict between the head and the heart.

Dogma, too juvenile by far. I mean, a shit monster? Give me a break.

Jay and Silent Bob - Smith tweaks the nose of the Hollywood institution he is now part of. The whole movie has the refreshing charm of a cheeky schoolboy .

Jersey Girl is sickly sweet with sentiment. You'll puke.

And now Clerks 2.

I loved this movie. It eptimoises what Smith does best.

He is not the greatest director in the world (he's not the worst either) but he is a genius at writing dialogue.

It's ten years later for the two main characters Dante and Randall.

There lives have moved on since working at the Quickstop convenience store that was the setting of the first movie.

Well, their lives haven't gone too far, the Quickstop burnt down and they now work at the local fast food joint.

The movie centre's around Dante's impending marriage even though he loves his boss played by Rosanne Dawson.

And Randall's fear of losing his best friend.

Dawson shines in the movie, giving her character a human vulnerability and a likeable quirkiness. When she's on screen,she lights it up like a beacon.

Jay and Silent Bob appear -as they should and are used as affectionate comic relief.

But the heart of the movie is Randall.

This hard faced, cynical fast talking bastard is faced with losing his best friend, the yang to his ying.

And he doesn't like it.

He mixes a sense of impending loss with anger and disapointment with his friend who is about to choose an easier existence but at the cost of his independence and perhaps his individuality.

Man, the scene in the jailhouse where Randall practically begs his friend not to leave him is very moving.

I think I had something in my eyes as I watched.

I like the character of Randall, I saw myself reflected in his cynicism and the barriers he surrounds himself with,lest somebody should get too close.

If this is our last visit to the Quickstop then it's a good way to say goodbye.

But I hope not.

I want to see how Dante handles fatherhood, I want to see how he handles married life and more than anything I want to see Randall fall in love and have his heart melted.

He needs it.

I know I did.

Only my footsteps could be heard as I walked through the lobby.

There was no bustling of guests approaching the reception desk wanting to check out, no cab drivers looking for their fayre, no members of the concierge laden under the weight of the luggage belonging to visiting American's, no conference delegates milling around looking for their next caffeine injection to get them through the rest of the meeting.

The hotel is quiet at the moment.

The hotel is empty.

The Labour Party conference begins on Saturday and we are the host property.

They have paid for the hotel to be empty a couple of days beforehand so the usual security checks can be carried out.

And to see the hotel this empty is jarring, it's unnatural.

I don't like it.

Karma,man.

I don't believe,never have never will.

What goes around, does not always come around.

But sometimes it does, sometimes I guess you can add that interpretation if you wish.

Case in point.

When my mother turned sixty we -Mark,Jason and I-bought her a trip to New York.

Five days in the big apple.

Hotel, flight paid for plus some spending money.

My stepfather turned sixty last week.

There was a party but I missed it,I had other plans and anyway, it was just too short notice.

He received for his sixtieth an El Cheapo coach holiday to Spain.

When my Mother told me this I laughed out loud,but now,writing it down and committing it to record, I feel a little sorry for the poor bastard.

I don't believe in Karma,never have,never will.

I do believe though, I'm going soft in my old age.

If I were to be asked the meaning of life, to sum up the the human condition and define what makes us unique as a species and as indiviuals I would answer with four words.

We don't know shit.

We think we do, we arrogantly presume that we know the why's and wherefor's...we theorise on what happened in the beginning of the beginning and we think we know where we are headed.

But we don't know shit.

I understand that we have to see patterns in what has been before and then try to ascertain what is to come, it gives us comfort and we fool ourselves into a false sense of security that we are in control.

And this happens on a universal level and a small individual level.

It's a constant.

But we don't know shit.

We think our lives are headed one way, something happens and that path is abandoned in favour of another.

And this does not have to be a negative thing, it's not necessarily doom and gloom.

It can be a good thing.

I never thought I could be this happy, feel this much love.

I figured my life would just go on, perhaps I would be alone and have a few affairs and regular fuckbuddies.

I didn't know shit.

What I know now is that I am the luckiest guy to ever walk this Earth.

And that's because of one special guy.

With a sideways glance he can cause my heart to swell with love for him and him alone.

I never expected that.

But I'm so very grateful.

So tomorrow I'm meeting G's parents.

They live just outside Blackpool so I'm catching a train tomorrow morning and G will meet me at the station.

And I'm-not-nervous-but-I-am-at-the-same-time.

Does that make sense? No?

Why thank you for your honesty,Binkster.

I'm not nervous about meeting them,I meet lots of different people every week,but I'm mindful of who they are.

I want to make a good impression, I want them to like me, I want G to feel proud of me and to be comfortable with the whole experience.

And the fact that he is giving me this validation to perhaps the two most important people in his life, well,makes me feel proud of him.

I mentioned this weekend to a friend of mine, a fellow fag and after a few minutes he asked about the sleeping arrangements.

He raised an eyebrow and said that was unfair.

Why should we - just because we're two guys - not be allowed to share a double bed like any other couple.

I disagree with him.

I told him that regardless of the sex or sexuality of the individuals involved, at the end of the day it is their house, their home,and their rules.

And I can respect that.

Heck, my mother was the same when I took a boyfriend home once.

But that was a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away.

And he turned out to be a jerk.

But thats another blog.

G is more than welcome to meet my folks anytime.

Or if he were to ever (very unlikely) piss me off in some way I could use them as a punishment.....

Yeah, that would do it, alright...

''Isn't 'G' really nice?'' says Miss Jones as she approaches my desk.

I look up from what I am doing and smile at her.

They had met a couple of days earlier in Heaton Park for the BBC Proms.

Miss Jones attends every year, taking a picnic and bottles of white wine to share with whoever she has inivited.

She's also the PA tothe BOSS.

And a good egg.

This year, it was the LONDON GUY, his boyfriend, Sheila's friend Helen, G, Sheila and I.

We arrived fashionably late and joined the small party amongst 12000 others.

It was a great night.

The music was fabulous, the theme from '633 Squadron' standing out in my memory, and it brought back a feeling of Sunday afternoons watching black and white war movies with my Dad.

And I would dare anybody not to feel patriotic - or at least proud to be British - with the playing of the national anthems at the end.

I didn't hesitate in answering her question.

''Yes he is.'' I confirm to her.

Which was only half true.

'Nice' is too bland a word to describe him .....

I do, of course,look busy at least.

My desk is a bit of a mess, reports spread across it detailing revenues for this and that, my computer has an excel sheet open.

It's detailed and colourful, impressive to a passerby.

But I'm actually chatting to my step mom on the telephone.

We talk her and me.

When I was very young, when she first arrived on the scene, I don't think she liked me.

Or my older brother,Mark.

After my mother departed my Father,Mark and I became a tight little family unit.

We would do all the cleaning before he came home from work and he would play with us 'til bedtime.

Then he met the love of his life and it was all change.

Within a couple of years it all got very messy and I left my Father to go live with my Mother and Paul and Andrew came along.

I've often wondered if that was the right thing to do.

But hey.

We're talking about this and that,mainly about Paul and she ask's me a question that stops me for a second.

''Do you regret letting him move in? Be honest..''

I thought for a minute or two.

'Regret' was the wrong word.

'Disapointed' with him was a better one.

The fact that he hasn't used this opportunity to his full advantage.

I tell her he's not the person I thought he was, that this was not the way I thought it would be.

I wanted it to be fun, but it's not.

We are just sharing a house.

She told me that he was a little jealous of how close Jason and I seem to be.

I had never thought of that before.

I guess we are.

He is one man I love and adore on a completely platonic level.

Any excuse to spend time with him.

But I do love Paul as well,I want to see him do well.

I want to see him succeed.

But it's up to him.

I'm sitting with G and we are talking about Dr Who.

We both like the programme, him as a viewer and me as a fan.

I used to buy Dr Who Weekly when it first came out in the 70's and the Dr Who Monthly in the 80's.

I had a stack of VHS tapes back in the last century and now have a stack of DVD's in this one.

Heck, right now I'm debating whether to buy the TARDIS playset. It's kinda cool with a detailed central control column that lights up......

You get the picture.

Anyway

We're talking about the show and I say something dumb that makes me cringe afterwards.

''You want to know something?'' I begin '' I was born six years to the day that the first episode of Dr Who was transmitted.''

He looks at me, a smile creeping out of the side of his mouth.

''Your sad.'' he says.

And he's kinda right.

But he still loves me.

Thats how amazing he is.

So the LONDON GUY is, well, going back to London.

If you recall, long time reader, when he first arrived at the hotel nearly eighteen months ago we didn't get along.

I didn't like his management style,I didn't like the fact that he sacked people for nothing more than being themselves.

And, I guess, having a northern accent.

So we didn't get along.

Which was kinda sad, as we were friends BEFORE he arrived in Mancs.

And truth be told,I did feel a little threatend by his presence.

But that was last year and there has been plenty of water under the bridge since then.

And -

Binky, this is where the paradigm shifts...

I'm gonna miss him.

We've got a long very well this year and he has done me few favours for which I'm grateful.

He doesn't go until November so I'm going to make sure I tell him how much I have appreciated him this year.

Heck, I might even let him read this blog.