Star spotting

To lift my mood before work I watch an episode of Pineapple Dance Studios. As a documentary, it serves no real purpose other than to make you laugh through your nose. I saw Louie Spence, the show's dancing queen, while shopping in Covent Garden a few weeks ago. I squealed. Southern Man pulled a face. 'Well at least he's not putting it on for TV,' he said. 'I've only seen him for 30 seconds and he's danced across the road and kissed a man.'

Moving to London, I thought the streets would be paved with celebrities. But, apart from my last job, sightings have been thin on the ground. I've seen Sven in a hotel bar, Radio 4's Evan Dragon Davies at High St Kensington station in a tight v-neck top and Sir Ian Mckellen in Waitrose, looking a bit trampy. Southern Man trumps all of the above, having seen Gary Glitter shopping for cheese sandwiches in Tesco.

No stars on the way to work, but I do secure a seat next to my only trusted ally in the office - Mel. She is a little firecracker. She is very clever, suits hats, has a three-legged dog and misses her family in Newcastle. As there is not much time for talk on our desk, we often meet in the ladies for a debrief - Mel, all red-faced and bubbling resentment, me, silently screaming and punching the cubicle walls. Today, though, she is oddly calm.

'I'm going to do it. I'm handing my notice in. I haven't got a job to go to, but I don't care,' she says.
'I'm happy for you,' I say, and hold her hand. 'But sad for me.' I give her a hug. My lip wobbles. My main feeling is pure jealously.