34

Welcome to the club. Sit down, kick off your shoes and pour yourself a stiff drink – you’re going to need it. There’s nothing exclusive about this place, even though the waiting list is three decades long and all the non-members seem to be pressing their noses against the glass and miming: ‘How did you get in there?’ and, ‘Should I come in?’ But you just wave them away, cigar in hand, and turn back to your cronies who are leafing through their back-copies of Playboy which they no-longer take for the articles alone.
I’m sorry, I’m very sorry.