Swedish Girl In London

London Life: Bright Lights, Big City. Now what's on TV?

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Sweet and Sour

Bluffing it - that's what life is all about after high-school, kids, and yesterday I bluffed it as Briony McNamara, a name I can hardly pronounce. Alias Aurora had to attend a corporate event at a hotel, and brought me along in the place of a poorly colleague (owner of the complicated name).

"It'll be easy-piecy," Aurora told me as she pinned the Brinoy nametag to my fluttering busom, "we're in marketing so nobody really knows what we do, anyway."

"Oh right. How do you pronounce my name again?"

It turned out Aurora was right, though. Since we were mainly there to see if the hotel would work as a venue for corporate events, all that happened was that people plied us with drink and gave us tiny wee kebabs. If you've read my blog before, you'll know that mingling is not my glas of freebie champagne, so you won't be surprised that I had soon retired into a djungle-like flower arrangement.

Still, the mingling found me, in the shapely shape of a Slovenian girl with a fur-trimmed coat dangling nonchalantly over her arm in a way that immediately made me feel like I belong in a queue for beet-roots in Stalinist Russia.

The Slovenian girl was well versed in the art of conversation and had in an astonishingly short time weedled a large amount of personal information out of me. She also thought that everything about me was sweet, and particularly living with my boyfriend. She herself had a hard time staying with one guy, because so many different men were interested in her. What could she do? When they kept pursuing her? But it was so sweet that people like me could sacrifice excitement and fun like that.

For some strange reason, I was seized by an acute desire to tell her that nothing about Doc & me was the least bit sweet. That in actual fact, we spent the days growling at each other, only pausing to throw some crockery when the debate grew especially heated.

Before anything like that could happen (which, if I'm honest, was probably never), Aurora found me and dragged me away to nick more kebabs off a trolley.

"I'm starving! Let's go for food."

And so we did, and as I left my name-tag in another ferocious flower arrangement, I realised that I didn't need to feel bad. It wasn't me who was a frumpy housewife. It was Briony McNamara.


At 12:05 PM, Blogger Tant Eva said...

Hej hej! Vet inte hur jag hamnade här men jag blev i alla fall kvar. Tänkte att det var bäst att lämna en hälsning från en svensk tjej i Orsa :D

At 12:15 PM, Blogger The Travel Insurance Man said...

Hi SwedishgirlinLondon, I'm an IndianguyinLondon, and I don't mean one of the million or so born-in-the-UK Indians wh're running the petrol pumps and quickie-marts all over the place.

Your lobg is extremely interesting, and I wish I could write as well as you do. I've been here about 2 years, I work in South East London, in Beckenham - for a travel insurance company.

I'm actually from Bombay. hit me some time and say hello. Keep up the good work on your blog.

At 12:21 PM, Blogger josephknecht said...

You should totally have skewered Slovenian Girl with a handy cocktail stick. There's nothing worse than being patronised by a person whose life seems so vacuous.

Actually, there probably are worse things, but I'm feeling melodramatic and vitriolic today.

I hate these events too. I can't do small talk - it's so false that I just want to vomit into the vol-au-vents.

At 3:35 PM, Blogger Swedish Girl said...

Hej tant Eva! Välkommen till min blogg!

Jag ska titta in hos dig också!

At 3:37 PM, Blogger Swedish Girl said...

Why Mr Travel Insurance, you are too nice to me! Of course I'll check out your blog.

Thanks for the tip on Self-Defence using a Coctail Stick, Joseph, I'm sure it will come in handy in the future :-)!

At 4:18 AM, Blogger Lucky said...

Oh SwedishGirl!

You should have done what all good Briony McNamaras do: Lie, lie. lie like a college boy on a date!

The last time I was Briony... ahem, Brian McNamara, I "was" a covert operative... on a mission ...to save all humanity from... ape men.

Of course, it wouldn't be all too "covert" to just out and say you're a covert operative-- so you just let a few little things slip... The fact that you're bilingual already makes you somewhat suspect in this department. Oh, and occassionally talk into your lapel. I'm sure that with the least bit of effort you could have created a mysterious persona that would have made even the most pretentious Slovenian Girl green with envy!

Oh, and then you should have skewered her with the cocktail stick.


Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home