LUKE MARSDEN: Memories of a fellow reality show pal
The year was 2014, I was working at a local radio station (remember them?) in Preston with a young lad called Jordan North.
We were invited to the “VIP” launch of a new Caribbean-themed restaurant.
Now, I’d been to quite a few “VIP launches” before (thanks to Big Brother circa ’08) but a young, nervous Jordan hadn’t been to any.
I explained to him how mainly everything is free, there’s usually a shoddy red carpet and rope as you enter and you are treated, on the whole, like a low budget Brad Pitt.
Jordan and I put on our smart shoes and headed out into the night (5pm) to be wined and dined with some Caribbean-infused food. As we rocked up, there was no local paparazzi or red carpet, instead a bouncer that checked our ID. The hostess greeted us and we explained we were here for the launch. She seated us and handed us two heartburn-inducing alcoholic cocktails. This should’ve been the first red flag.
As the night went on, Jordan and I drank more cocktails with a Caribbean twist, which basically means a tiki umbrella in them. We also ate some of the spiciest food we’d ever had, I remember saying to Jordan “this is like a bush tucker trial”.
The manager even came over to check everything was all OK, we happily said “yes”. Then around 10pm a bill of over £160 arrived in our laps. Turns out we got the date wrong. Jordan began to sweat as I looked at my banking app for funds. We paid up, left and laughed for months on end.
The lad (pictured right) you’re watching on I’m A Celeb is a true genuine northerner who I’ve put a bet on to win, I need to recoup my money somehow.
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