The English Gentleman….

On a day when Nat Rothschild told Osborne not to mess with him any further, on a day when all seems to have gone mysteriously quiet on the Osborne story – The Guardian has a great story about George Osborne’s boorish behaviour on holiday this summer in Greece.  It is worth a read for a viewpoint on how the educated, apparently well mannered, Englishman with aspirations to high office behaves.  Candida Jones has the story (My thanks to Ro for tipping me off.)

Maybe it is the end of the story – we shall see.  Certainly, I think the prime minister needs to brush up on his constitutional and administrative law if he is to suggest any more *investigations*.

Anyway… moving on…..

I went up to The King’s Road for a coffee after a meeting this afternoon.  I sat outside the cafe so that I could smoke and read my newspaper in peace without the usual background chatter of builders and scaffolders shouting at each other…”Hey, Dave… bleeding hell… have you seen this effing…” etc etc.

The coffee arrived… black and piping hot…. all was good.  I had The Independent open in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye I could see a chap, mid to late fifties, suited and wearing a hat, staggering slightly towards me.

“Good afternoon… fine day is it not?”

I looked up and replied “It is a fine day… good to see the sun out.”

“What!”

“I said it is good to see the sun out.”

“You read The Sun?”

“No… I said”… pointing to the sky.. “It is good to see the sun is out… shining… in the sky.”

The gentleman looked up and then looked back at me.  By this stage he was standing right opposite my table.  He was mildly over refreshed.

“I’ve had a bit of a lunch. May have overdone it.  Don’t tell the wife.”

I sat back in my chair. Always good to see a gentleman mid-afternoon exercising his liver. He was tapping his nose.

“You don’t know my wife do you?”

“I don’t know your wife, No.” I replied.  It was true and seemed to be a sensible thing to say.  The gentleman smiled in the mysterious way seriously pissed people do when they are  having conversations with themselves.

“Ah… you are reading a newspaper…. bit late for a morning paper isn’t it?”

I tried to explain that I had read two newspapers earlier in the day but… to no avail.

“Always like to get my reading of newspapers out of the way before 9.00.  Sets me up for the rest of the day.”

I smiled.  I had decided that this particular gentlemen did not need to be encouraged.

“Do they serve gin and tonic here?”

“They serve alcohol, but you have to eat?”

“I have to eat? Why do I have to eat?  I’m not hungry.  I just want a G&T.”

“This is a licensed cafe…. it is policy…. you have to have a meal with alcohol.”

“Bloody ridiculous… I shall find somewhere more sensible.  Good to talk…”

The man shuffled off….  I have no doubt at all that he found a Gin and tonic.  I made a mental note to myself to avoid making eye contact with suited gentlemen wearing hats mid-afternoon.

5 thoughts on “The English Gentleman….

  1. Thanks for the link to the Osborne story. It could however have been almost any one of the many MPs of all political colours whom I have had the dubious pleasure of knowing over the years (a prime example of which I was listening to on Yesterday in Parliament just an hour ago), although there are some noteworthy exceptions. Makes me glad my political career didn’t work out.

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