The Search For The Perfect Bloody Mary
A face for radio
So here we go again. Stansted airport in all its glory. Not for the first time, the casual watcher will see me schlurping down a Bloody Mary at Comptoir. The search for the perfect Bloody Mary has become something of a grail for me. I can tell you that it was a heck of a lot better than the vile brew that my friend Alasdair made in the summer. That was drinkable right the way down to the last inch, which alarmingly seemed to be pure spice and horseradish. The search continues.
I digress. I digress a lot, most of the time. Were I at school now I would definitely be allowed an extra half hour for exams. My mind doesn’t seem to sit still, which you would think is a problem. However, knowing no different I quite enjoy it. For instance I decided to take control of our social media. There was no real reason for this, my colleagues were doing a good job, but it seemed like a toy worth the playing and as a result there is a new expert on Instagram in the company. Moi-self.
Enough of “moi-self”. The office is in good shape, but full. The Andrew Hooker sale is off to a flyer, please keep bidding and October is shaping up to be something fun. In the meantime Saturday was spent cataloguing the Donato auction. He is a good man and a very good maker. He has been a delight to work with and I hope retirement treats him well.
At Christie’s we used to rely on ‘death, divorce and debt’. It became a cruel TLA* for a genuinely painful process. At Amati we feel genuinely honoured that people trust us through the difficult times. For those who have, thank you.
And now I weave my uncertain way to the flight monitor to see what gate my plane flies from; just another middle-aged man wishing he hadn’t worn a cashmere jacket on an early Autumn day.
JKB
* Three Letter Acronym
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