Stepping out.

Well today has been another interesting day, I finally did something that was regarded as impossible a few months ago - I don't want to go into it too much for fear of outing myself, but lets just say it is good. I am going to go to the Ivy for a few drinks to mark this historic occasion.

Of course, I am not going tonight, as tonight is the night of the party. I have an absolutely splendid uniform to wear, in the style of Micheal Caine in Zulu. It is very nice, and meets the requirements of the party while still being suitably outrageous and just on the right side of being a dandy.

This party is going to be absolutely awash with the characters featured in this blog, I wonder whom I will end up stepping out with at the end of the evening....

Interesting times.

Today has been interesting so far. My assistant is being very quiet today, I think he finally realised that while I am very easy going yesterday he pushed me a little too far. Although I want to give the chap a chance, I am very tempted to trade him in for someone who looks good in a skirt and can type fairly fast.

That is not what is interesting, as you may have guessed, the only thing that really interests me are women. The one who I visted in her club called me this morning just to say hello and to ask me what I thought of her potential outfit options. After being presented with the options I decided for the good of humanity that she should go with the gold and red suspenders outfit, this shall be my good deed for the week. I wonder why she wanted my opinion on what she will be wearing...

Also the Dominatrix just phoned up, and demanded that I go to one of her events, she was rather forceful about it. What fun eh? I wonder if Cordings do a tweed made out of rubber...

Resistance.

I had a remarkably boozy weekend, my sister is leaving town and she had drinks in a rather spiffing cocktail bar with her friends. A very old flame was there, who was in the village next to mine when we were going up. She was looking marvellous and delightfully short skirt showing of her rather long legs. Sadly she got trapped in some heated debate with one of my sisters Marxist friends. At least I learnt that one should never ask a Marxist to the pub.

A rather big work bash is planned on Thursday, and I went to see the organiser to drop of some more tickets. I was going to send my assistant but he would just use it an excuse to get the entire afternoon off, and as I am trying to work him a bit harder to see if he isn't completely feckless I went instead. I'm glad I did, she was in the club alone and invited me in for a drink, she asked if I had the evening free but alas I had agreed to go a preview screening with a friend so I couldn't hang around and be seduced. It was rather fun visiting her in her lair, it added a delightful sense of danger to the occasion.

She is awfully pretty, and very feisty, which is very much my type but as we are working together I must resist doing anything naughty with her. Or in her case it would be more apt to resist her doing anything naughty on me.

Women, being distracted by them.

Yesterday I was awfully distracted in a meeting. It was a work meeting in the office with a load of other people but our new P.R. girl was there. She is hauntingly beautiful, and although I know, through experience that P.R. girls are not to be dated and that any sort of dalliance with someone you work with does tend end up causing some uncomfortable moments.

Anyway, I managed to say at least a few insightful things in between getting rather sloshed on a couple of bottles of Chateau Chelsea so I don't think I did too awfully for having a bit of a slow start.

Also as I had no idea about the meeting until various glamorous people showed up with sunglasses on their heads at which point my boss appeared and apologized about not telling me about it earlier. It was a bit off, as I was not dressed for meeting people, especially mesmerizingly magnificent public relations types. I shall have to train him better.

Today I have no less than two boozy lunches and an event to go to, then in the evening the chaps and I are going to bimble around local bars doing that manly bonding thing that involves drinking until you are in a complete state of disrepair. I am rather looking forward to it.

No drink and bad coffee.

My monk like life has been progressing well, I have been almost a week with out any booze, not even a sly cocktail or a fortifying brandy. This has had two major effects, I don't fear the morning so much and I have been having a wide array of interesting dreams. I should point out that it's not that I enjoy the mornings, just that I fear them a little less.

I went to a lunch meeting yesterday and it was a bit of a trial. I went with a girl I work with which was probably the first mistake, then we met another girl who was married. And I didn't even order a drink. I had a very poor coffee, just one as the awful waitress took ages to bring another. Why anyone would want to go to one of those chain-pubs for lunch when the delights of Soho, especially the beautiful French pastry house, was but a street away. It was like being at a party stuck talking to some dull person when someone fascinating was saying something interesting and amusing across the room.

I have learnt from this that I shall not be allowing this girl to choose the venue for any future meetings.

My assistant is being rather poor today, some days he seems very good but other days it is like pulling teeth to get him to do anything, still I am sure, or at least I hope with time we can craft him into a suitable chap. He does have some excellent jumpers which is a positive sign at least.

A chap's life.

This has been a long week, not in a bad way just absolutely stuffed with parties and events, it got to the point where I had to refuse a party just to have a nice relaxing night in. There is, of course at point at which one really can't take anymore drink and I find that kicks in after about the third night of debauchery that my vim starts to fade.

Saying that I went to an awfully good party. It was as exciting as my first media party almost a year ago. This was simply because it was in an entirely different class. It was in a beautiful tucked away place that was a long-time favourite of Mr Wilde, and had through good fortune remained completely untouched until recently. This event was organised as a supper club for people who were friends of a very select group, I am still rather unsure why I was invited, I had a very entertaining afternoon of cocktails in Soho with her (the girl that invited me) but aside from a couple of other nights out that was it.

As such I found myself on a table with various film directors and other interesting types. I was sat next to a rather pretty (in a blond sort of way) artist. Who was charming but I don't think we will meet again for anything but coffee - I had a look at some of her art on the internet and it was rather trying to say the least.

The party was populated by very suitable people, and I am sure that if I go a few more times I will meet some absolutely wonderful people. I do hope I am invited back.

I have been thinking an awful lot about my situation this weekend, In a what is it all about sort of way. This might just be a seasonal thing as my birthday is fast approaching and it does tend to make a chap think about his life.

Well not too much, aside from the fact I am proud of my cravat collection my shirt selection needs updating and I could really do with a few more brogues I didn't have that many deep thoughts.

Too much booze?

I am writing this while enraptured with a classic mid-week hangover. I seem to spend rather a lot of time either recovering from a drinking adventure or setting off on one, which I am sure can't be doing me any good. Still a chap has to be debauched while he still can, I will look back on these times and smile or at least wince.

The girls situation has got a bit fired up again. I went to a rellies birthday and met a rather splendid girl who has just moved up to London. It was nice to meet a female who wasn't in some way connected to the slightly sordid circles in which I normally move. Anyway, she has my number so I wonder if she will call.

On the telephone communication side of things, last night I accidentally gave my mobile number to one of the girls who does work experience with us, and she has been sending me text messages. I try to keep my distance from people I work with in that respect as I know I am terrible at long term relationships and such things are bound to end in tears and not entirely rummy feelings being felt towards people.

The other thing of note is that The Actress tried to call me, I didn't answer because I was busy drinking pints with J and talking about how children are like gun dogs. Which is what chaps should do. Today she sent me a text, she wants to meet up for lunch. I am not sure if this is a terribly good idea but, well it might be entertaining to see her again.

I feel dire so I think I am going to have a bloody mary.

Things chaps can depend on

There are few things a chap can rely on in this world, a well trained Springer, A good shirt from Hawks and Curtis and the restorative power of Eggs Benedict.

On Sunday I was determined to take advantage of the good weather and get out in to the sun. So instead of having a look at the new season of cravats or even popping into Fortnum's for some essential supplies I broke out the old cycle and arranged to go for a jaunt along the river.

I went with a good friend who I haven't seen for quite some time as she has been off traveling the colonies. We shall call her B, I know that usually girls get a pseudonym but B has been a friend for a such along time so she is worthy of more important title than the other girls who flit in and out of my life depending on the season.

We set off down the river at a fairly brisk pace, enough to scare the occasional yappy dog but not so fast that one got uncomfortably warm. It was most refreshing and the leafy areas of London are very comely in warm weather.

After a while we found ourselves in Richmond and ended up having chilled drinks and Eggs Benedict in a rummy place right on the river. It was a splendid way to spend a Sunday afternoon, one that shall have to be repeated.

In other news through a strange series of events a lapsed membership to I club I was once in has been renewed. I still don't really understand why but I shall be taking full advantage of it, so alas my desire to reduce the amount of booze in my diet is going to take a bit of a hit. Still one must suffer for ones cause.

Another night out in Soho

I have always been a fan of nights that don't turn out quite as one expects it. Last night was one of those fabulous nights where you ride a train of cocktails from one adventure to another.

The Ballerina didn't appear in the end, which was a shame, or she might have been there but I didn't see her, the dangers of drink and all that.

I took along L, he of the Soho mis-adventures (well the party was in Soho so it seemed apt) and introduced him to the Amazon and various other characters from this blog. He thought the Amazon was absolutely spiffing and was also rather taken with a few other girls who have appeared here on occasion.

At first I thought that all these different groups of either female companions or chaps one goes drinking with when one is disgusted with woman, would fight or at least show each other with cool indifference. Thankfully my judgment was entirely off, they got on splendidly. It was delightful seeing them all have a wizzo time talking nonsense and heckling inept poledancers.

I met a delightfully curvy woman at the bar while buying a round of drinks for my newly united circle of chums and got so delayed talking about flirty things with her that L came over to see what the delay in the boozing was.

After I had plied him with a bit more alcohol he bimbled off to rejoin the party and I did another lap of the room bumping into a few more people I knew and got accused of being a cad by someone I used to work with. I sad I was a bounder at the most, and really just a fop which seemed to placate him enough to stop waving his tequila around near my velvet jacket.

After a few more hours of drinking in the bar, which was far, far too warm. I stumbled home laden down with a couple of goodie bags and some phone numbers of a couple of very pleasant young ladies.

This may be my last drinking adventure for a while as I am going to try and take a few weeks off to clear the head and all that. Of course I make no promises as to how long this will last.