Boodie & Mops & Winkles

Two fugitives from Broadway, Scripters Jim Carhartt and Nicky Winter, stopped off at London to sample the gay Festival life. Their report (in last week's Variety):

"London night life goes on in the small private clubs from about 10:30 p.m. to 11 p.m. After this, if you want to go on drinking, you either go to a private party or retire to your hotel room and stare moodily at the wallpaper which, in London, has the habit of staring back.

"The private parties are usually inaugurated this way: you'll be standing at a bar with friends, idly tossing down 15 or 16 whiskies. In the fifth drink somebody says, 'I say, let's all go around to my flat for a nightcap.' Two drinks later, somebody else says: 'Good idea.'

"Three drinks later the prospective host says, 'I'll get hold of Boodie and Mops and Winkles and Poopie, and you see if you can snaffle Cookie and Flip.' (The English go in for repulsive nicknames like this. It seems to have resulted from parents naming all their children Nigel and Diana, which, God knows, is reason enough.) Ten minutes later, the entire group is clustered around the bar gloomily tossing down whiskies and longing for the good old prewar days when bars stayed open till midnight.

"When the barkeeper announces, 'Time, please,' the host has one more drink and falls on his face. The party is thereupon postponed till the following night, and you go home too loaded to care whether the wallpaper stares back at you or not."

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