CIPA is not looking quite so proper and prudent
right now. The first Happy Hour for many
moons has attracted a lot of people and has indeed made them look very happy. Happiest of all is Mr Davies, who is busy
showing his staff how to tie a tie properly.
It turns out Mr Davies is posher than we thought. He can do a double Windsor knot.
(Note to self: Mr Davies can have a CIPA tie pin for
Christmas this year.)
Some of us stay at Happy Hour for slightly longer than an
hour. It seems churlish not to, really. I decide that the new Bye-Laws must
absolutely make Happy Hours compulsory, and that it should absolutely be part
of the Pee’s and the VeePee’s remit to attend every single such occasion to mingle
with their subjects. A good leader
should be approachable, and indeed I am happy for anyone to approach me if they
are carrying a free gin and tonic.
Following the Happy Hour a group of us go clubbing for a
while and then we all throw our car keys into the middle of the dance floor
which is fine for me because my car is still down in Zummerzet so good luck to
anyone who wants to get home that way.
And Mr Davies ties his underpants into a double Windsor knot and downs a
triple Southern Comfort® in two seconds.
And then I wake up.
And it was all just a dream. In
fact I am asleep in my hotel room, which is a lovely hotel room, neither too
luxurious as to make it look as though CIPA is wasting its members’
subscriptions on Officers’ privileges, nor too cheapskate as to make it look as
though CIPA is a second-rate, poor man’s organisation staffed by plumbers, but
Just Right. In fact, most prudently and
properly right. The IGC would be proud
of me.
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