After an early doors curry, a little night out to celebrate the Lady's friend Stacey's thirtieth birthday. Held in the bar Shag it was a decent affair with all the Lady's friends running amock. Well, they weren't. They were sitting or standing chit chatting. Apart from Stacey who was running amock but hey, she didn't want to disappoint anyone.
As the ladies were there, some of their boyfriends had been hauled along too: guys you see from time to time in the same crowd and you have to make some small talk. With one particular banker, Smith, it is very obvious that we have very little in common and we both know it. He makes a good effort and I respond but I know Smith thinks, 'how can anyone make a decent living with shaggy hair and a beard. Better chat to him to keep the girlfriend thinking that I am a sociable guy.' whilst I know Smith knows I think, 'What a stereotypical American jock only interested in money, he's just counting the minutes until he leaves to go see his true mates. Better chat to him to keep the girlfriend thinking that I am a sociable guy.'
This would be all OK but for the fact that (a) Smith used his his secret pass-phrase that lets his girlfriend know he's had enough last night (it's "The weather's turned much colder"- very original) and (b) Smith can't get my name right. Ever. Last night I was Miles when he came in, Gilles when I was chatting to him and Piers when he was leaving. Piers? Who the fk is Piers? I hope it's bloody snowing next time he shows up.
Posted by Guy Brighton on October 22, 2004 at 11:19 PM
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