Suzanne Portnoy

You would think after spending fifteen years working in PR that I would know how to give a decent interview but I’m still learning. Mainly I tend to ramble on, straying off the subject matter, relating anecdotes just for the sake of it and with no coherent message. When I read back what I’ve said, I want to hide my head under my long, black wig… that is, until today.

It seems I may finally have processed some of the top tips I’ve recommended to my clients. Today, for the first time ever, I read an interview with myself that didn’t make me cringe. Unfortunately, the online edition doesn’t feature the picture of a rather stunning 30-something model pretending to be me but no matter, it still reads well.

Tonight I have an evening with two or possibly three men. One of my regular partners sent me a text to say that he thinks I deserve a specially, especially large treat this evening to celebrate the release of ‘Not So Invisible’ and is organising an all-male soiree just for me. I can’t wait!

Tomorrow morning at 11am I’m looking forward to hanging out with Vanessa Feltz on BBC London. The last encounter I had with her was at a my local ATM where she was checking her balance. How do I know this? She left the slip in the machine. She had a staggeringly large amount in her current account. I generally tend to avoid the button on the ATM machines that says ‘Check Balance,’ preferring the one that says ‘Withdraw Cash.’ It’s a good thing we’re not talking about money tomorrow otherwise I’d be really stuck.

Actually, I like Vanessa a lot. She’s smart and funny, blonde, Jewish and has a penchant for black guys. I think we have a lot in common. I wouldn’t be surprised if at one point we we had shagged the same guy. Maybe I’ll ask her. Shame I’m only on for a half hour.

Oh, and I should mention that fellow New Yorker Ed Hamell is on for only two more nights at the Soho Theatre withi his wonderfully witty and inventive show, ‘The Terrorism of Everyday Life.’  Ed lets rip on his 1937 Gibson acoustic whilst ranting about everything from death to drug taking, parenting, love and friendship.  His delivery is rapid fire (I don’t know how he manages to keep up the pace for an hour) and deadpan.  OK, I was given tickets but he’s actually worth the £17.50 it costs to see him.