More familiarly placed, namely by the bathroom door, was our table. Oh, OK, our bench. It was to this I was once more condescended not to be escorted to. Damn again!
"Pretty worked up crowd tonight," said I, trying to catch him off guard, "what's the story?"
"None that I know." He faked ignorance. "Could be the recent temporal fluctuations, could be the new price list."
"You don't seem too worried about it yourself..." I suggested, guarding my left wrist against a vicious tentacle attack from the left. You soon develop appropriate reflexes in such places. I wasn't wearing my watch anyway.
"Why would I?" he retorted, "There's a reason why I prefer the table by the bathroom, and it's not aesthetics."
"I didn't mean the bill," I said, conscious I was developing a tick on my left eye, "we never get to pay in this place anyway. It's all grossly incomprehensible: my 1p account costs me £50/year to keep open, which would make for an equally good meal in a much better restaurant every single year until my demise. In addition, it will be roughly 165,000 years after that that the account becomes self-sustainable under current interest rates, and the world economy prospects don't look good. It just doesn't make sense anymore, so would you please care to explain?"
"Nothing's changed that I know," he opined, "you've just lost the grip. Have some wine," he added, filling my glass, "don't panic." The wine began changing colour right away. He met my intrusive eye as he handed it over.
"Forgive my meeting your bubble in such an abruptly deflatory manner," I smiled, "but you are dead." I smiled again; this round was mine.
"And are there any more outstanding comments you'd like to make at this point," he said readily, "like that transport ministers are certified morons?" He's developed a way of avoiding being cornered and I hate him for it. Droplets had already started accumulating on the surface of my wine, which I gulped with a flick. Milliways wine turns into poison within 10' of opening. I still don't know if that's a trendy thing or an accounting executive decision.
"It's just that some of my friends wouldn't necessarily know about something like this. Also that people are getting increasingly miffed about it." I sure was. "Have you seen the notice boards? Have you read the articles? Have you even tried to download the .alts? I'm telling you man, it wasn't a wise move at all and don't even try telling me nothing's changed." My tone was rising and people around us started noticing. We didn't have much time.
"I don't have to try, it's easy: Nothing's changed. Have some more wine." The last glassful is always a gamble. I stared at it for a while. "I'm still here, same company, same table, Zark, I didn't even bother dispensing with the nose..."
I made my decision and downed the liquid before I could reconsider. "My point exactly" I said, realising that it wasn't. I threw the glass aiming at the incompetent snatcher who had reached the point of embarrassing its whole team at that point, only to miss and hit the navigator instead. The table skidded onto the path of a waiter who dematerialised on time to allow it to pass right out to the lobby, and I never found out what the following, rather lengthy, acoustic ugliness emerged from. They've been trained to achieve such feats, I know. "I'm just not happy with this whole... death business, OK?"
"You're not happy with revolving doors, either," he said arrogantly yet plainly, "but you've learnt to use them."
"I DON'T USE REVOLVING DOORS!" This was offence of the highest order. "I just don't go burning them all down." Now our surrounding life-forms were getting annoyed and trying to get the staff's attention.
"Why, are there so many of them?" He wasn't too bothered, he knew he was winning - again.
"No, but they make them fireproof, shatterproof and guard them heavily where I live." I said, resigned to losing - again. But wait, this wasn't the point at all! Now I remembered, I'd show him, he must know he was on the wr...
"Anyway, I've got to go," he said, and I could tell it wasn't easy on him this time, either "I mean really this time." I could sense the unmistakeable anxiety of the crowd rise on the background, as the show was presumably reaching its climax. Will they never get tired of that garbage?
"So what was it you did on Friday, stage rehearsal?" I'm so smart, sometimes. I just wish my timing wasn't so lousy.
"You know what I mean, just pop out for a while, but strictly on a non-committal basis. People are like this, you know..." Either most of the place changed colours rapidly due to the show, or I was finally losing the battle with the notorious wine.
"You mean they enjoy each other's company for a time and teach each other and learn from each other and then they have to go their separate ways?" Mmmmm, now that sounded like it made some sense.
"No, I mean they drop everything when there's a good party around the corner." It made sense, all right. "And it is for that party that I'm late." He added. And then, with a threatening look "Don't even ask!"
"Would I be invited, by any chance?" I asked and then wished I hadn't. It wasn't so much for his stare, as for the low marginally audible low hum you sense when the super-intelligent shades of blue are on your case. I must be their favourite. "On a second thought, I think I'll opt to stay here instead; this seems like a good show." I detested the show at Milliways. This made me feel much better about the imminent destruction of all things in general, only to be disappointed by the realisation that this was the one thing in the universe that didn't go with it.
"Well, if everything's, ahm, said and done, then," goodbyes were never his strong point. Good-mornings neither for that matter, but nobody ever cares for those. "and if you'll excuse me, of course..." he rubbed his fingers to his palms and then his palms to his wrists. I realised he wasn't wearing his watch either and giggled, but tried to keep it discreet. In vain. A closet-like member of staff was making its striving way towards us now. 2', I guessed.
"Just this one last thing that's puzzled me for some time now, if you don't mind..." I wouldn't forget this time, and he wouldn't evade it like the others. It was about time.
"OK, but make it snappy. I've got to pick somebody up on my way, and then I can never find my vehicle in the car park, and you know how it is if you get caught behind a slow driver and..." Something else must have been bothering him, his urgency was rather unbecoming. He wasn't making any sense, either, of course, but that helped make the situation more familiar rather than the opposite.
"I must know about Ultravox. I mean, you did do it on purpose, didn't you?" A ruckus could now be heard over everything else approaching us and fast. "Just come out with it, go on! Tell me." His eyes had swollen trying to see through the smoke. The noise behind me had reached terrible levels, but I was hanging on his lips.
"Then I can tell you right now that - aaaarrgghhhhhh" was the last thing I heard before he was swept by the upturned table, which now included also the furnituresque member of staff, several jelloids under it and a good proportion of the rest of the staff chasing it, while its original -and very drunk- passengers heaved pieces of jewelry, upholstery and, interestingly, lingerie around, and usually going for the eyes. I climbed on the bench and shouted obscenities at his rapidly disappearing figure, but soon landed again as two things happened at the same time:
- my new perspective enabled me to realise there was a jolly good party going on right there and
- the detachable -and indeed detached- piece of an exoskeleton caught me right in the groin: I'd been too obvious a target for too long to ignore

Settling under the bench, I watched the fireworks for a while in comparative safety. Some creature offered me another glass of wine which I accepted with gratitude and a semblance of grace, as it was too dark to tell what colour it was, and then it took me 4' and a sprained ankle to wrestle it down from my throat. I think I even danced at some point later, but my memory of the hours that followed is quite blurred. I do, however, remember making noise with my new-found friends while the waiters were hosing down the otherwise empty restaurant with some acidic solution early in the morning, and eventually going home, giggling wildly and sometimes laughing out loud hysterically over my brand-new watch and the lengthy bill I'd picked up voluntarily, knowing that I'd never, ever have to settle it.

I do wonder what happened to him, though...