Classic clangers from the last week
A banker awaiting trial was overheard in the bar at The Connaught chatting to a financial advisor. He stated: “I invested in a bookies, a hotel in Switzerland. I did my brains. I put money in a gin company. I did loads of little ones. They were straight investments. It wasn’t that sophisticated”. The advisor responded: What angle you should use is that you were conned. You should say: ‘I know how to wire a socket. I know how to change a light’ and then you should say: ‘It don’t make me an electrician’. Continue: ‘I know what an ISA is. It don’t make me a tax expert’. If you do that, you’ll get away with it. It’s just a bit of banker bashing”. Delusional perhaps?
Losing the geography
Two rather large American ladies sat at the bar in La Brasserie in South Kensington talked about working on Rhianna’s tour. The first commented: “She was in her dressing room and she wanted Mongolian food. We ordered Moroccan. Why the f**k did she complain?” The second responded: “I haven’t got an effing clue”. Here’s a duo that deserve to be given maps for Christmas.
An American in the bar at the Bulgari told his Italian friend: “My card is embossed and it is definitely as good as Patrick Bateman’s but a guy gave me his and I was outdone. It was A4 in size and embossed. I had to hole punch it to file it. Turns out he was a f**king dictator. He lives somewhere in Africa in a little hut but the little b*****d managed to out business card me”. The shame.
Mugging the money
An Essex businessman lunching with a lady “friend” in Langan’s in Mayfair chatted about his last holiday: “We went to Zermatt. It’s expensive there. That’s why my mistress liked it. We hired a chalet. It cost me £15,000 a night. All in, what I reckon, ten days in Zermatt was £40,000 per head. I was a mug. I didn’t even get sex once”. His lunching partner plainly, equally, was there for this character’s delightful company.
Bigging it up
A pair of club promoters chatted about their next event in La Bottega in Pont Street. The first commented: “The tables are around this area. We’ll cram in as many as we can. Put them all together. Let’s rape them. Money, bookings, I don’t give a shit. A minimum table spend is £1,000. We don’t want losers who spend £500. They are a waste of space. Either way, I want £1,000 people . Shame on those losers that spend just £500. They don’t understand that you’ve got to spend big”.
The second promoter continued: “It is wrong just to invite everyone to an event. Target Facebook. Target names. Target everybody. If you don’t target, you fail. We only want the £1,000 crowd”. We’re certain the world and his wife will clamber to attend.
Subscribe to our free once daily email newsletter here:
Is nowhere safe from vulgarians these days? The Connaught must have slipped as it was one of the more discerning establishments where, effectively, one had to be introduced..