If you take a load of egotistical young people who are convinced that they are the “best and the brightest”, give them money, booze and a lot of work stress, guess what happens? I remember when I first started in finance the various internship schemes were really just a hot bed of matchmaking for those who hadn’t hooked up permanently at college, or just fancied something on the side. There was one relationship in particular that stands out: these were a couple of Americans on the grad scheme who had a one night stand a couple of weeks into the training programme, didn’t use protection ( I guess, I wasn’t there…) and when it resulted in a pregnancy were forced to get married by both of their politically prominent and conservative Christian parents. Maybe it was fate because they now have 4 children and both are retired from finance but I do look forward to the time when either of them run for political office on a family values platform and I at least will know their family is the result of some drunken fumbling at the Grove in the early 2000s!
Anyway, because the number of available women at work was limited, and the number of attractive women who weren’t scarily focused on their career was even more limited, once that pond had been dynamited were all forced to turn our attention to the famous city meat markets like Abacus. I’m sure people who have worked in broking have better stories to tell than me, but I do remember some legendary Tuesday nights, like one where I needed to get home from Walthamstow at 4 in the morning in the days before Uber. I can assure you that it’s not easy, luckily the delivery driver who gave me a lift saw the funny side of things, I was sober enough by them to have a reasonably informed conversation about West Ham and their recent run in the FA cup, which probably helped in him driving me back to South Ken where I lived at the time.
The night before I had overheard a conversation at Abacus which still makes me laugh when I remember it; because the Essex boys had figured out that all the Essex girls where going into the city to try to snag a banker ( and yes, for younger readers there was a time when being a banker was actually something that got girls to whip their knickers off), the local boys went into the Pitcher and Piano pretending to be traders. The conversation went as follows:,“ so what do you do? ” in a shrill Essex accent from the lady. “ I’m a traaaadaar, you know, buy high, sell low”.
Of course there is a time when meaningless sex with strangers starts to get a bit tiresome…. Or is there? I don’t know yet, better continue for a while so I’m sure… and the prospect of picking up dental assistants from Chelmsford over a pint of snakebite doesn’t seem as fun at which point the key is to develop as it says in The Game “Multiple Long Term Relationships”, which brings me to the real point of this story, to describe the classic English dirty weekend. I know I haven’t talked about fashion yet so maybe this is really just a travel piece, the problem with my early years is that I can’t really remember what anyone wore apart from cheap suits on the men and top shop and Zara clothes on the girls. Either way the clothes didn’t stay on long enough to make a difference!
So, if you are planning your dirty weekend, whether it’s someone you know well or someone you are hoping to shag for the first time, just remember the key ingredients.
1) You have to spring for somewhere classy. If it’s in the UK, go for a country house hotel like Limewood or the Royal Crescent in Bath, or even (need to look up name of the Christine Keeler) place. If it’s abroad, go to Venice or Florence, or even Paris if you like recreating a middle aged English view of Romance.
2) How you get there is important. The train to Gatwick and a sweaty easy jet flight full of Italian teenagers is not going to get her in the mood. Try to book seat 1A if you can. Why 1A? For those in the know it’s the most popular seat on the plane. There is a story about a CEO of a bank who always flew 1A with BA and would throw a fit if he didn’t get it. One day he was flying overnight to South Africa and the check-in desk wouldn’t give him the seat he wanted. “ who can be more important than me? ” he asked petulantly when the staff wouldn’t tell him. Of course when he got on the plane he had to go and check who it was, and is probably true given how legendarily arrogant this man was that he was probably upset when they had given the seat to Nelson Mandella.
3) I know it’s hard but try to make the weekend about something other than sex. If you do some research, find some little special places and adventures, maybe lay on a speedboat trip or some private shopping, the sex will follow and she will want to show her appreciation. Just taking a girl abroad isn’t enough in my experience, I even had a girl once who refused to sleep with me all weekend, which of course could make you wonder why she would agree to go with me in the first place. I actually think I might have talked myself OUT of bed on that one, now I just keep my mouth shut instead.
4) Finally, buy champagne. Lots of it, it doesn’t matter that it’s overpriced and you are in a tourist trap. Just spend the money and see it as an investment.
To wrap up: Tinder is great, but it doesn’t get you the chance to wake up at dawn in front of an open window overlooking the romantic Venice Canals with someone you really like. That experience is totally priceless.
