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The Lasttogo

When all the action has happened, all the drink (except that awful red wine) has gone, and only the wholemeal bread is left on the table, you realise that you have got a Lasttogo at your party. This person appears to have no home to go to, and is the bane in the life of baby-sitters everywhere. No hint will get rid of a Lasttogo. You can try bringing their coat down from the bedroom, yawning openly or even disappearing for a while and returning in your dressing gown, but nothing will work. You have to force your eyes to stay open, and when you blink your eye-lids feel like your windscreen-wipers look when you put them on when it is not raining. You have to stare the Lasttogo in the face and nod occasionally, trying to look as interested as you can in the details of their new mortgage investment plan. Occasionally they laugh loudly at one of their own jokes, and jerk in your seat in the realisation that you were actually asleep. At four thirty AM the Lasttogo says "Well I mustn't keep you up." and then leaves within the next hour.