I may be old, retired, and to my wife’s terror, slowly balding, but I’m not forgotten. No sir! When this esteemed magazine rang up to invite me to their annual bond awards dinner in London, I lost no time booking my flight tickets and dusting off my vintage tux in preparation for a fun evening.
The award-giving was delightful, with some singing waiters stealing the spotlight mid-way through the event.
But it was the after-party that really left a lasting impression. I’d forgotten the experience of staggering out to clubs at 1am in London, dressed in your finest but rather severely inebriated.
Unfortunately the bouncers were less than impressed by our imploring them to let us in. Undeterred, the GlobalCapital team were happy to camp out at my hotel for one final tipple before calling it a night.
Of course, the sun was already shining by then, with many of these journalists and bankers due back to their desks a few hours later.
That’s when I thanked my lucky stars that I was a distinguished retiree, who didn’t have to keep time with anyone, except Tai Tai. I’ll definitely drink (more) to that!