As part of her job, my wife is often obliged to attend work functions in glamorous places like Paris and Monte Carlo. As the furthest I’ve travelled with work in the last year is Mansfield, that all sounds amazing, I know. Mind you, a tedious work-do is a pain in the arse wherever it’s held, and if it’s going to be dull, then a beautiful location is probably more than outweighed by the travelling you need to do to get there.
I don’t really know if it’s customary for the VIPs at some of these functions to be accompanied by a “plus one”, but an invitation has never been extended to me and that suits me just fine: while she’s away, I can spend some serious time reading a book or sinking hundreds of hours into Skyrim or something like that. Just as importantly as thwarting the vampire plot to scorch the sun over Tamriel, I get to NOT spend my time at an industry event where I don’t know anyone, where all the talk will be about European pharmacy and where most probably won’t even speak the same language.
Imagine my surprise, then, when my wife came home the other day and asked if I wanted to come along to a black tie ball being held in Frankfurt next month. It’s so unusual to be asked that I can only conclude that it’s actually something that she wants me to go to and that it is therefore my duty to attend. I’m must admit that I’m not really all that tempted by an event where the speeches will probably be in German and where I might have to sit on the same table as one of the billionaire owners of the business....On the other hand, the prospect of a free weekend in Frankfurt is a good one and I really like the idea of coming back into work and telling my boss that I’ve spent the weekend hob-nobbing with his boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s boss’s boss (or something).
….and then I heard that the after-dinner entertainment would be provided by Ronan Keating himself. Well.....after that there was no holding me back.
As all these senior executives discuss the heavyweight business issues of the day over brandy, cigars and billiards, I’ll be in the drawing room with the other wives talking about hair-dos, make-up and poor Jennifer Aniston’s lovelife. That is how these things work, right?
The things we do for love.