I was out quaffing lagers with a pal last night and once again Friday arrives with that faintly queasy, furry-tongued sensation we all know so well. Blech. Still, nothing a fine meal of fish and a couple of pints at the King’s Wark can’t solve I am pretty sure. I have yet to meet the hangover their fine lunches can’t defeat.
Tonight I am off to act as arm candy for Mrs. Toad at a client dinner with the Dastardly Finance Corp for which she works. Me, my black eye, a scruffy beard and a grudgingly-worn suit – not quite like the braying public school fat-tongues who tend to dominate these sort of events. Maybe if I act arty enough they’ll think I’m some sort of creative genius.
We’ve already had some interesting situations with this sort of thing actually, because a lot of the posh Edinburgh people we’ve met seems to have a very acute awareness of which school one attended and what job one does and therefore which of you needs to kiss the other’s arse. Because Mrs. Toad and I don’t seem all that posh they tend to start out quite optimistic, too. Then they find out we met at school in Vienna, which both worries and confuses them – it sounds posh but they don’t know the school, so they can’t be sure – oooh, what to do?
And then my job confuses them too. They know the company Mrs. Toad works for, and that’s quite legit, so they can kind of peg that one to their ladder, but of course they tend to assume that her wage is probably about two thirds of mine or less because that’s how these things tend to work in the world of finance. So when I tell them that I’m an industrial designer and that I actually make fuck all they get really confused. Am I just lying? Am I a maverick creative guru and just playing it down? Can they actually condescend to us like they sort of want to? Or am I from such a wealthy family that I simply don’t have to work?   But what if they misjudge it and act superior to the wrong person? Aaagh, too many options, does not compute… head explodes! It’s quite funny.
Although to be fair, Mrs. Toad’s worky social events aren’t really like that actually; in fact they tend to be pretty friendly, to be fair. I got distracted and started nattering about another occasion entirely just there, sorry. Umm… so er, please do take advantage of the Friday de-lurking amnesty and chip in with your Friday Fives. As Christmas gets closer and closer I would imagine that less and less work is being done in the offices of the nation anyway, so you might as well.
1. Your worst-behaved plus-one moment.
2. The worst plus-one moment your other half has inflicted on you.
3. How do you subversively rebel when asked to scrub up to impress folk?
4. Do you love or loathe your other half’s colleagues? (And are you free to answer that question honestly?)
5. In the company of people you are supposed to behave in front of (colleagues-in-law, the other half’s family, your parents friends etc..) how scooshed do you actually get?
The five songs this week are new things which have found their way into my inbox recently. That’s a new Eels song from a recently announced album, which is good news, and ditto for Stanley Brinks. Tune Yards is someone just signed to Matador, and of whom they have high hopes in the new year. It’s weird, but I like it. Naughtily, I’ve had that Ravens & Chimes song for ages, so their album might actually be out already – if it’s as good as the last one that is very good news.
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Ravens & Chimes – Hearts of Palm
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Tune Yards – Hap-B
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Stanley Brinks – End of the World
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The Chord & the Fawn – Love, Sex and Rock ‘n’ Roll
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Ruth and I are back on Fresh Air in a couple of hours, so it is naturally time for much rejoicing on the airwaves of the interwebs. In fact, I am sure the internet could barely be more excited about the prospect than it clearly is already. Can’t you see it trembling with anticipation?
