What happened when Katie Price came to OMG

Bristol gay club OMG celebrated its fifth birthday last Friday, with Jordan herself as the guest of honour.  I envisioned us meeting, bonding, maybe ordering Dominoes together afterwards. Here’s what actually happened.

10pm

I get to the club embarrassingly early so as not to miss any Price time.  I’m the first one outside the club (so uncool) until some of Katie’s loyal fans soon join me. “I’m gonna bum her” says one. “They’re gonna have to chuck me out”.

I’m then informed that she won’t be arriving until at least 1am.  I glumly sip on my one and only drink (hella broke right now) and survey the club.

Selfie cause there’s nothing else to do in a club at 10

The legends are true: there is indeed a claw machine full of adult goodies. I meet a gorgeous Italian-Brazilian guy and spend the next few hours pleasantly chatting to him about uni, Britain and Brazil while the club fills up with tipsy locals in prom dresses.  Most of these are women old enough to be Price’s mother.

Midnight

By this point some of my friends had arrived and I was starting to enjoy myself.  The music and atmosphere were good, I was having a grand old time. I’d almost completely forgotten what I’d come for. I did show my friends the Tab stickers I had I my back pocket, however.  “The aim is to get one on each  boob” I’d say, and then laugh as though I were joking.

Around 2am

By this time I was massively flagging.  My friends were soldiering on, powered by sugary alcohol and cigarette breaks while I was wondering why I’d put myself up for this in the first place.  We were outside having some fresh air when I heard SHE had arrived.  Racing into the club, I found a scene that could only be described as apocalyptic.

The crowds were mental

Hordes of groaning drunkards crowded the lit platform where Katie stood. I wanted to run, but then I reminded myself I’m a goddamn journalist and went into the fray. Standing there, propped up by the bodies of those around me, listening to I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday on full blast, I genuinely believed I was in hell. Eventually I was pushed to the front of the “queue”.  It was time.

The big moment

I panicked. It emerged that selfies weren’t allowed. Selfies, my greatest tool. The photos were taken by the club photographer instead. I approached Katie. “Excuse me, have you heard of The Tab?”

No, Katie had not.  Would she hold a sticker for the photo?  She seemed flustered, “No, you can hold it”. Bewildered, I held my Tab sticker and posed before being moved along.  A meeting that lasted all of ten seconds. No bonding, no Dominoes.

The face of a broken woman (can you blame me though)

OMG put on a great night, and nobody can blame Katie for being a bit on the grumpy side.  If I had to pose with people for hours on end at 2am to Christmas music I’d be miffed after a while too.  But Katie, if you ever come back, give me a call.  We could still get that pizza.