Christmas Party

I do enjoy a fat, middle-aged bloke making a holy show of himself on the dance floor… especially when it is me! And so it was the night of the IB Christmas party where I managed to get my face slapped not once, but twice. I tell you, this is starting to become a habit. Admittedly I only had myself to blame. I was queuing up at the dodgems with Gary (yes, Dodgems. They don't do things by half you know) when a young and rather drunk woman behind me said that we need to buoy ourselves and become more aggressive before we take our positions. I concurred and playfully slapped Gary across the cheek. Cleared besotted with the boy, the woman loudly declared "don't you do that to him!" and promptly slapped me as hard as she could (full force, big swing from the shoulder. Ouch!)

About an hour later I was talking to Simeon and the lovely Jenny L when the aforementioned woman (who, it transpires, works for Jenny) came up and told her the story. "Can I have a go" Jenny asked, fixing me with those deep blue eyes of hers. I mean, how could I refuse? I know she's married but, hey, it is Christmas! Thwack again! The difference is, Jenny really rather enjoyed it and - to be honest - coming from her, so did I. It’s about time I had a new hobby so sadomasochism it is.

The rest of the evening passed pleasurably. I held Jock while Steve took a picture from under his skirt to find out what Scotsmen really wear. Believe me, I have subsequently spent most of today trying to block that image out of my mind! FW in facilities flirted with me and asked if she could loosen my bow-tie to which I responded, with my usual high level of sophistication and charm: "listen, if you're going to undo anything, better make it my flies". I enjoyed several dances with the head of legal - the incredibly foxy Tiggy - before missing my train and eventually returning home at 2:20. Ahhhhh, Christmas, eh!