Friday

After work I get the tube to Waterloo to meet K and her little brother who's up to visit. It's his 15th birthday next week so we're taking him for some dinner and to see Iron Man 2 at the IMAX. In truth I'm far more excited about seeing the film than he probably is - but the tube journey is a hot, stuffy, uncomfortable one and the Victoria Line train sits at Kings Cross for ages which ends up with me being 20 minutes late and in a foul mood. The plan is to go to Burger King in Leicester Square (in the absence of any nearby restaurants with any space and the fact that their new Angry Whopper burger is officially Iron Man 2 branded, don't you know) so I grump off across the footbridge to Charing Cross with K and her brother in tow.

We get to Leicester Square and order our burgers - double Whopper with onion rings and jalapeno peppers, really rather hot and pretty tasty - and I'm feeling immediately, predictably better. I apologise to K for being a dick and we walk back through the rain towards the IMAX.

It's easy to forget just how big the IMAX is - the last time we were here was for Watchmen last year - and there's that rather fun buzz when everyone is waiting outside the auditorium to head in and be staggered by the sheer size of the screen. We have great seats about halfway up on the right and the trailers get me fully in the mood for the film. I had loved the first Iron Man and would go as far as to say it's my favourite Marvel movie - Downey Jr. makes Tony Stark a properly three dimensional character and gives the whole enterprise a bit of warmth and charm to enjoy beyond the fighting and explosions.

The second one turns out to be very enjoyable too - though has nothing of the exciting novelty of the first, which is hardly the film's fault, I suppose. The effects are great, the lines are still fun and the only problem seems to be that it goes on a little long and tries too hard to fit in new characters and "fan service" type references to the film's comic book heritage. Mickey Rourke is great as Whiplash and the scene where he attacks a motor race in Monaco is probably the film's highlight.

We head home at about midnight - but not before a raging tramp gets to scream "give me a cigarette you fat cunt" at me charmingly on the way through the subway - totally shattered and conspicuously sober for this time of the week. That's what happens when you hang around with 14-year-olds I suppose.