Amid the whinnying, braying, clacking and cut glass accents in our London office can be see a woman with the hair of Limahl and the wardrobe of Max Wall - if Max Wall had worn heels.
She really is quite extraordinary and you do want to ask her whether she doubles as a street mime or perhaps as the door-bitch in an 80s throwback theme club. But of course you don't, you just stare. And all of the stares feed her convivtion that she's gorgeous. And perpetuates the cycle.
Tragic, yet fun.
Have drinks tonight with the 'rotund gays'
Dinner tomorrow at Bibendum (was he gay?)
And Lunch Friday with a woman I've not seen in aeons.#
Almost enough to convince me that I'm having a good time here.
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