I wasn't sure what to do with myself at this stage, so I kept on going, through the revolving doors, past Chris Addison and someone else I vaguely recognised. Still wasn't sure what to do, so I headed right to where Grauniad types usually smoke under the protection of the wavy front of their environmentally well-meaning new building. I tried smoking my phone, but it was fairly acrid. Someone shouted "cut!". Maybe my phone smoking wasn't naturalistic enough.
Then I came back.

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