Blood orange

It was all going so well until we had to stop serving the booze… 

Whilst the AOP award winners were being announced, they had decided to close the bar. Now obviously, not everyone was thrilled with that idea. Particularly those who had arrived just in time to miss a drink. 

As soon as the speeches announcements ended, it was as if the starter gun had gone. I was staring down a stampede of thirsty guests rolling like a wave towards my bar table.  My well ordered system collapsed under the weight of demand. I couldn’t pour the stuff fast enough. Wine was splashing all over the place. At least I thought it was wine. 

“Are you bleeding?” Asked one worried guest. “No, its just wine I think…".
“Erm, sorry to be a pain, but can I have a fresh glass this one’s erm…” said one lady, handing back the glass of orange juice I’d just passed her. Bloody fingerprints all over it.

I'd signed up to help with the AOP awards event and the subsequent Beyond the Lens festival they were holding over the following days at the Truman Brewery.  Earlier in the day, I’d had the opportunity to get a good close look at all this year's finalists, as I worked my way around the hall with a cloth and a spirit level. Checking each print for fingerprints and straightness. I’d balked at paying the £25 ticket price, so getting paid to help out seemed like a much more reasonable offer.

Reinforcements arrived at my Bar/Outpost. Demand was filled and people went back to enjoying the event. I took a late journey home via Shoreditch, moderately warmed against the cold air by Barman’s privilege...