Peering inside, I spotted a selection of glitzy numbers and saw my retirement package reduce by half. Either my wife was about to run off to Monte Carlo with a hotshot younger model or it was awards season. Luckily, I realised, it was the latter.
Every year I get the obligatory invite to a series of industry awards dinners. I’m not collecting the gongs these days, but I do enjoy these occasions. Who can say no to free flowing Moet and a four course dinner? I know I’d be missed if I wasn’t there. There’s always a queue of young guys wanting my business card and some invaluable advice.
At the most recent dinner I went to, one head of a Chinese company was so overwhelmed by his award, he was last seen mainlining a bottle of champagne and zigzagging to the lavatory. This was much to the disappointment of his well-wishers, most of whom wanted to date his daughter.
But back to the case in hand. TaiTai simply doesn’t understand the concept of business attire. I think she hopes she’s going to the Oscars. Secretly, I must admit, so do I. I’d much rather be schmoozing Cate Blanchett than a portly Chinese billionaire.