We decided that Mag Meals were no fun because we had to sit and listen to Colin The Publisher moan about how much it was costing. Better, we thought, would be a mag meal that we paid for ourselves because, a) we could go where we wanted, b) we could spend what we wanted, and c) we wouldn't have to invite Colin.
We booked a table at Old Orleans in Bath. We entirely failed to notice that this was exactly where we would have ended up if Colin had taken us. And we forgot that if we were paying for it ourselves we'd have to sit and listen to each other moaning about how much it was costing. And we accidentally invited Colin.
I recall we had the meal because Colin refused us a mag lunch - not cos we wanted to pay. He then invited himself. The twat.
I have a clear memory of suggesting that we go out for a meal just for the hell of it, but whether this was prompted by Colin's refusal to take us I can't be certain.
The point of the day was, I believe, Tim Tucker's birthday.
I can proudly confirm that it was indeed my birthday which sparked off the evening. I also distinctly remember Cam and I returning to AP offices afterwards and waging a war of words with Gamesmaster on that crappy, inferior version of Quickmail that fell in to the hands of the people for a few months.*