Interviews eh. Either love 'em or hate 'em, they're a big part of getting a job. They reduce some people to sweaty, shivering wrecks; others to swarmy, oily pieces of work; others still to affable charmers. Still, they always produce some sort of reaction. So, it's not every day that you turn up for an interview and you know the interviewer. Less times still that you can say you've been for a BBQ at the interviewer's house. Probably less again are the times that you've been to the interviewer's boyfriend's book launch. And, speaking purely from a personal perspective, it can only be on the smallest amount of occasions when you've actually seen the interviewer wearing only a pair of boots, a harness and a silver studded black G-string.

Guess today was my lucky day then.