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A Tale of Two Charity Dinners

Published on January 30th 2006.


Part One: Alderley Edge Hotel

Monday Night. It’s a Burns Night dinner at the Alderley Edge Hotel, Gordo has organised a very posh taxi from Dennis, of Bees Knees Limousines fame, Manchester’s finest chauffer. Dennis has very flash (on the inside) black Mercedes vans, all dark windows and cream leather interiors which seat six in great comfort. Very nice. Gordo promised to plug him, so call him on 07802 456518 if you need a punctual, reliable lift in great comfort.

Dennis offered to put a couple of bottles of champagne on ice; Gordo had already had the discussion with Howard Sharrock about booze and flashy stretched limos. It wouldn’t have looked too good if we had turned up at the venue with fairy lights blazing falling out pissed in front of the great and good of Alderley Edge invited by Sir Alex Ferguson.

‘‘Eh, the charity committee’s ‘ere! Lets fookin’ paaaaaeeh…’’ Hmmm.

So having picked up the irascible Wayne Mellor and the lovely Diane along with Howard’s missus Judith Watson, we tripped on down the by pass to the venue. Gordo was getting a nose bleed, he hasn’t been back to Alderley Edge since he made an undignified exit from the family home some five years ago; he was getting twitchy. He had never bothered going back to see if he could pull the Global knives out of the garden fence and trees, all the way up Knutsford road. It would probably need a better, stronger man than Gordo to pull them out.

At the Alderley Edge Hotel we were treated to champagne on arrival, canapés (not bad), a starter of some unrecognisable terrine, the colour and texture of putty. It was simply horrid. Then a small portion of Haggis and Neaps which were great. Some Scottish Mentalist came on and read a poem to it. That’s why the English were always fifty steps ahead. Don’t you lot go believing fairy stories put on film by a silly Australian trying to get his own back for his Granddad being deported. He’s taking the mickey out of you for God’s sake.

Then a main course of pot roasted venison. Not bad, not good. Then pudding. Couldn’t remember much of that, Gordo was too busy looking down Sharron Vincent’s bosom. Actually, having read the notes, I see I have described them as ‘childish’. The puddings, not Sharron’s attributes.

Then the great Dave Dee, one of the founders of Gordo’s favourite charity Nordoff-Robbins and a member of the sixties band Dave Dee, Dozy, Beaky Mick and Titch, got up to sort the auction out. Howard gave a little speech, Sir Alex a bigger one and off we went. Dave did a belting job, Both Wayne and Liam Maloney put their hands up from our table, both being great sports. We haven’t got the exact figures yet, but well over £12,000 was raised amongst a room of maybe eighty people. Good night all round, although it seemed to Gordo that the hotel had lost the plot since he was last there.

Part Two: Sapporo Teppanyaki

Well, Gordo has a two day break and he then finds himself doing an auction himself at the new Japanese restaurant, the Sapporo Tepanyakki Restaurant Sushi & Noodle bar. Blimey, there’s a bit of a mouthful. It was an open night with as much booze as you could throw down your neck along with sushi and teppanyaki for the three hundred or so who managed a seat. The restaurant is big, with a huge number of Teppanyaki tables; these are the ones where you sit down with the cooking hob in front of you and a manic Japanese chef demonstrates his mastery of sharp knives, first shown off to the Chinese in 1930’s Shanghai.

Lots of people thrashing about and too many to mention at this point; however, will someone please marry Monica Komorowski before Gordo embarrasses himself again. Apart from single-handedly using her Polish employment company to solve the bus driver shortage, demonstrably solving the problems of the number 42 Magic Bus and its mentalist drivers, all doing too much horse tranquiliser, Monica appears to be getting some great waiting on staff in the restaurants. I love ‘em. They actually look around the room to see if you want serving. Very different to most of our lot, working in what they consider a low skilled job simply to get enough money for a year out in Australia, along with puddled Australians waiting to get enough money to get back home so they don’t have to make a detour through Afghanistan to help finance their homecoming. Serving Gordo and his readers simply isn’t high on their agenda in most places.

Back to the night. Gordo is drinking water keeping a clear head. The Charity is the deserving Francis House, a place where Gordo’s best pal Lawrence Millett worked for nine years before his demise late last year, without letting us know. About the working that is.

Lindsey Cessford, who had inveigled Gordo into the gig having been asked by Liverpool PR company Mason Media to get hold of him, was looking sheepish.

“OK Lins, get me a mic and lets make sure that everything is set up and ready”, says Gordo, itching to get on with it.

“Err, problem there boss, the PR guys haven’t arranged one” Lindsay replies looking everywhere but at Gordo. Even John Locke couldn’t come up with an answer.

There must have been nearly five hundred people there by this stage; you couldn’t hear a thing above the mayhem. And it looked to Gordo that no-one was taking a lot of interest in the auction. Gordo had thirty two lots to auction, twenty two too many. Having had a chit chat with Mason Media, it was decided to carry on regardless. Full marks to Andy Mullett, Lindsey Cessford, Denise nearly Mullett and Pam’s crew from Francis House and some complete loonie from the restaurant, who, with his outsized roasting pan and large metal spoon managed to get at least twenty per cent of the people’s attention each time Gordo was ready for the next lot. (Err, the complete loonie owns the restaurant Gordo – Ed)

And Wayne Mellor. Wayne is going to Heaven; he was sat right in front of Gordo, Diane at his side; having spent a grand on a number of lots he must have bid up at least five other items. Michelle Mercer and her hubby played a blinder, as did the delightful Kelly Harris and her boyfriend. All in all it finished a good night; we raised over ten thousand pounds on the evening. A microphone may well have doubled it. All you knob ends at the bar concentrating on free booze will be named and shamed by Gordo next time, beware.

Once the auction finished, Gordo sat down for dinner. It was superb. Go. Gordo is going to return shortly and score it for you guys.

Happy Trails

Gordo
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Click herefor Sapporo Tepanyaki's website
Click herefor details of the Alderley Edge Hotel

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Depends on the arse.

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