Because she is obsessed with Elvis, and also maybe due to some experiences on tour buses that she alludes to but never puts her photos on flickr from, our intrepid publisher decided to treat us all from the Wellingtonista towers to lunch at Harem to celebrate the launch of the new URL.

All the Wellingtonista crew were able to make it, so it was amusing to see the different dress styles from our branches in different quarters represented. We were also had a token JAFA as a guest, who showed up to the table talking on his cellphone (There’s a reason why stereotypes are so amusing, and usually it’s because ha ha, it’s funny because it’s true. And I was happy to provide the token skirt-over-pants fashion infamy that is apparently very Wellington, but is also very useful sometimes).

We talked more about the 48 Hour Film Festival, the exact location of the big tree in Kelburn, the assortment of Lyle Lanleys debating furiously with each other, the correct way in which to pronounce certain bloggers’ names and how they have bad taste in pizza, whether or not Alan would be mob-blogging the lunch this time, that the World Cup can be viewed at Scopa which saves those who aren’t usually sports fans from having to go to yucky bars to perve at hot boys, how stalky it would be to stay in a particular holiday home in Otaki, and, once she was gone, whether or not Martha would be passed out in Civic Square by now after two tasty Turkish Efes Pilsners. I think the general consensus was that a good time was had by all.

By way of a restaurant review, we had two platters – one with meat that was pounced upon and devoured swiftly (except the calamari), and one without that was eaten slower, with deliciously buttery garlic bread and more turkish bread to mop up the assortment of dips. It was tasty food served unmemorably (which is fine) in exotic Disneylandy settings, although I do have to say that while many have raved about the toilets, no amount of fake wood with holes could cover up the fact that they were still lit by fluorescents. But I think the martini was drinkable, despite being shaken, so that’s a true test, although I’m sure Tom will fill us in later. Work is so much sweeter when there’s booze involved…