Last week I invited a man I’d met on twitter to my home for lunch. Some of you may think this is strange, unwise or totally bonkers, but others of you will think it’s par for the course in our house. I made friends tweeting with Robert Puzey last year and we’ve since chatted on Facebook. He is a hugely talented songwriter with a stream of glittering awards and accolades. If you’ve danced in a club, disco or at a school reunion, chances are you’ve sung along to lyrics written by Robert’s fair hand.
His awesome musical talent impressed us all, and his advice to Ben was invaluable. Wasn’t all good though… I’m sorry to admit that he beat me at table tennis! I haven’t got over it yet!! But I am still the queen of ping pong in this house, so it’s not too bad.
And speaking of dancing, a few of you know about my exploits this week and may be expecting me to regale you with x rated tales. Well tough luck! This is a professional blog (and not that profession)! But needless to say, my eyes were opened to a different side of London life. I thought I’d seen it all…. Well, now I’ve seen it all!
Yes, my meeting with a client and potential new client was held in a pole dancing club. Not a tasteful one, so I’m pleased I’d had my lunch at the previous venue, where all the chefs and waitresses were nicely clothed. Although I’d seen it on TV, I was shocked by the exploitation of the dancers in real life. Even more stunned when I was outvoted in discussions with people of all ages and both genders that it’s the dancers doing the exploiting, and good for them to find paid work rather than claiming benefits.
Anyway, I’m not discussing the moral issues here. I have attended business meetings in all sorts of venues – after all, every business needs social media. But it was certainly an interesting afternoon. And no, I didn’t join in…
While we’re on the subject of dancing, you may have seen on the news that the world Tango championships took place last week. This elegant and passionate dance (my favourite, by the way) actually originated in the slums of Argentina – in brothels, in fact! Probably not that dissimilar to pole dancing today, although I witnessed no elegance or Flamenco-inspired gowns in Shoreditch.
Obviously, I’m not interested in a moonlight career pole dancing, but I have always fancied flicking my calves for the tango. We had one lesson once, and weren’t too bad. I should be good – my grandparents were European Tango champions! They were fantastic dancers – world Charleston champions too! Now that would have been something to tweet about!!
I might not be winning any silver cups for dancing, but I did once win a London business award for my plain English business writing training. So let me know if you’d like me to help you write more effectively. Or if you’d just like to dance…
As the grand old lady of pop says, I’m your private dancer, a dancer for money; I’ll do what you want me to do. I’m your private dancer, a dancer for money – and any old music will do.
(Photo courtesy of vietnamdance.com, with thanks.)