BBC Heaven

As I'm signed into the BBC Club, I can't help but do it again.

"I can't believe they rejected our pitch. I really feel like there's a need for a daily soap set in an ordinary street in Manchester." I'm getting a few looks by this time.

Yep, Friday night was spent at the BBC. And when you've got a generous mate who works there, you get to see all the bits of the building ordinary people don't. Like corridors. Offices. And air conditioning plants. But having been raised by the Beeb and on my first visit to White City, all the fun I needed to have was in my own head. This was how I imagined it going.

"What's through this door?"
"I wouldn't open that."
"I'll just take a peak."
"EX-TER-MIN-ATE!"
"OK, I see your point. Now what's through here?"

Or later in the bar.
"What're you drinking? Oh, Terry, thanks mate, pint of Kronenberg would be lovely. Who's your friend? Tinky-Winky- It's been a while. How's the custard business going?"

Obviously the reality of TV centre is a little different, but I was in my element. Bizarre flights of fancy aside, I had a serious reason to be there. My lovely buddy had also managed to get me tickets for the filming of the pilot of That Mitchell and Webb look. I'd never actually heard of it before, but it definitely deserves to become a series. I'm sure there must be a free slot between all those repeats of Changing Rooms for something that funny.

Got out of the BBC bar at 11, the myth of Auntie not quite ruined for me.