Saturday, 20 November 2010
Sharp intake of tinctures...
This year's business network/company bash/generous hospitality season has started early.
So early, that Scrobs has been caught unawares, and has already attended two massive events which have resulted in an incredibly short memory for names, and a very long pain in the forehead, parts of the neck, most of the body and all of the psyche...
The previous week was bad enough, with Private Eye's favourite company providing the comestibles. The guys I work with there are all very professional, and have spent numerous hours working for nothing on our potential schemes, because someone has to these days. The banks and the politicians still get fees and expenses for getting out of bed, while working companies continually get the crap thrown at them from all angles, but hey, it's the best depression they've had to 'handle', so stop whinging...!
But last Thursday's evening was a real killer! It was fabulous!
We were kindly invited to a grand evening by a firm of Lawyers who always let me know when something's happening, and who always do it right. Their hospitality is second to none, and one of these days, when the depression created by the 'Three Bs' (Blair, Brown and Balls) is finally kicked into touch, and their legacy is buried in painful concrete far below the surface of the biggest dump in the world, I'll have the greatest pleasure in calling this firm's property partner and asking him 'How much to do this and when can you start...'!
But until then, we do the circuit seeking business leads, tweaking yields, machining Excel calcs, and this last event finished in an alcoholic haze sometime after 9.00pm, somewhere in Wardour Street.
By God, it was fantastic! Your correspondent, together with Business Partner and also accompanied by highly esteemed and serious property man from major co, arrived at 6.45 pm, slightly damp from a long hike across St. James' Park, and from there on in, the stunningly beautiful ladies who were proffering sustenance in the form of Frozen Margaritas were at every turn. The property dinosauriad were out in force, released temporarily from the depths of Jurassic Park, the hosts were as ever charming, friendly, and the stock of business cards which Scrobs hands out to interested parties was diminishing fast.
I've never spent such an evening in such salubrious company, and even now, 72 hours later, the scars on the headache are still lingering. I put it all down to drinking out of a wet glass, and having to negotiate those crackly white chips round the edge, near the salady bits!
There was an incredibly attractive dark eyed lady offering shots from a holster and cartridge case belt strung about three centimetres above stunning legs; the Margaritas were installed in an overhead liquid carriageway which tipped gallons of the stuff down a throat at the touch of a guest list, at last a proper Chardonnay was on offer, (sorry BP, had to say it...) I nearly lost my laptop case (and possibly my lap if I could have found it...) to a lady from Viet Nam, there were unassailable stairs nearly three miles long to encounter on the way out, I had to stand on a box to speak with two of the tallest people I've ever met, and one of them didn't mind (at all as it happens) my nose being within three inches of a fabulous cleavage, my liver's risk assessment now includes the terms 'Paaaah, disaster impending, consider not buying green bananas, and forget putting long playing records on the gramophone', and somehow I've got to mend a small tear in my trousers.
I stayed with my long suffering ED, who kindly guided me home via mobile phone and coaxing sat-nav from somewhere near Dulwich (I think), and she had the hot water bottle, cocoa and understanding nods ready when I eventually poured myself though their keyhole between - oooh, say 9.00pm and midnight!
And the next morning? Wow, toast, coffee, friendly banter, promises not to tell Mrs S, and a trip home in style!
Who could wish for such a grand time, and the collection of cards and notes from the evening (it was work after all), already seems to have started to create some real business prospects for next year, so it was all worthwhile!
Of course, I cannot mention the firm who provided such a grand evening for legal reasons, but they really do know how to get business marching on despite all the efforts of politicians, banks, quangos, civil servants etc., to stifle ways to make money.
I've got one more to do in three weeks, after which I'll revert to tea and comfort until we open our Christmas half-bottle of Wincarnis and really live it up...