Up to London for a lunch with libertarian fellow Shoreditch refugee Philip, a CEO meeting and then to the offices of a City law firm to moderate a panel presentation for Liquity – a new platform for investors in unlisted stocks. It is an interesting proposition and I wish the firm the best of luck, not least because it employs my fave Tory blogger Charlotte Argyle. Rather conceitedly I thought I was on pretty cracking form.
I was certainly getting a few laughs but it is quite possible that many of those present were laughing at me not at my witty asides. You never really know.
As soon as the formal bit was over I headed outside for a quick nicotine fix and a fellow who was leaving congratulated me on my style and cynicism and said I gave a most enjoyable performance. Thank you said I. He then introduced himself as a full time member of the House of Lords and thrust his card into my hand saying that he had read my blog but would become a more regular reader from now onwards.
I shall not name this fellow to spare his blushes but I find praise from a member of the political classes a bit disconcerting. Does he not know that when the Popular Libertarian Front sweeps to power in 2020 one of the first acts of Dear Leader Richard Poulden will be to have the entire political class strung up from lampposts? Naturally I shall be there in the front row with my knitting needles gloating as the tumbrils pass along the Mall.
But for his kind words tonight, I shall put in a good word with the PLF and Lord X will have his sentence commuted to 20 years in the newly established salt mines in the grim Northern Wastelands surrounding Stoke on Trent. But it got worse.
Someone else popped up and said that she was chatting the other day to someone from the FCA, the financial regulator, about me. Cripes thought I. I know they read these pages but what did the fellow from the FCA say? I wondered out loud.
“He said you were a genius, a flawed genius but a genius none the less” said my informant. That was not quite what I was expecting. Cripes again. Praise first from the political classes and then from the regulators. It is both surprising and also somewhat appalling.
It is perhaps time to consider my retirement.
After that back to Real Man which was rammed. And so I assisted the waitresses, serving a large table of very charming folks from the fantastic foreign exchange service providers Change Group. If you need and foreign exchange services naturally go to see these folks.
Every so often I get the “are you Colin Firth’s brother?” line. And one of these folks seemed convinced that I was, or was, at least, a cousin. As it happens I not only look nothing whatsoever like the great man but am also no relation whatsoever. But every couple of months someone (who has usually had a drink or five) seems to think otherwise.
Perhaps if I shed a few more pounds I could relaunch as a lookalike for Mr Firth (notwithstanding the fact that I do not look anything like him) and so avoid praise from the most unexpected and most alarming quarters.
Having managed yet another day off the sauce, and eaten only salads, the weight trend has to be positive. So perhaps, it is time, once again, to consider my career options.