You always see a fair few familiar faces when visiting Shoreditch House, so one tries to emanate a certain amount of 'cool'. Sadly once I left the 'garden' area of the 6th floor, passed the pool to head through the restaurant to the lift, any chance of this swiftly vanished. Someone had unhelpfully closed to sliding door and I couldn't find the handle, or work out the direction to I was meant to be sliding the door. After an embarrassing amount of time smearing my hand prints on the glass in front of Plan B, who was sitting having lunch in direct eye view, I admitted defeat and asked the foxy lifeguard for help. Inevitably he strutted over and opened it with ease... immediately. To avoid further blushes I tried not to gain eye contact with those enjoying their foodie delights, getting my blackberry out and quickly pressing buttons to give the appearance of an extremely busy and important person!
Another Sophie fail in the cool stakes.....
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