Ladies who Lunch

 

Girls want to become princesses or ballerinas when they grow up. Not me. I always wanted to become a chic lady or an Indian Squaw. Manywebite-home-1341 girls when they grow up, adjust their dreams to reality. Not me. I still want to become a chic lady, in fact a lady who lunches. I work hard to achieve my dream. And not anyone will do as my dining companion.

 

Literary editors, and failing that, literary critics are my desired lunch guests. I love sending out invitations to them. Some don’t answer, some tell me in the nicest possible way that really they don’t have time. And sometimes I strike lucky. I mark the date in the calendar red, I book a restaurant, I wash my hair in the morning of the important day. And then, every now and again, they cancel me at the last minute. Going after your dream has never been easy. Right?

 

I am afraid Peirene started to lose her patience with me. And decided to take matters into her own lovely hands. She went in search for help across the seas and over the mountains until she reached Catalonia. There Roman Llull awarded her courage and chutzpah by granting her money to pay for a PR company to promote her Catalan modern classic, Stone in a Landslide.

 

She came home beaming with pride and anticipation and found herself two good looking, charming, young PR men, Wol and Digby – the founders of Flint PR . She’s sure they will get her to lunches where I have failed. And of course has been ignoring me ever since.

 

Well, what can I say. Let her be. I am delighted with her two young men too. I am particularly pleased that they’ve taken this nymph of mine under their wings for a while. It’s now a much nicer atmosphere here at my office. No more female bitching and blaming. I am already looking far more relaxed. Radiant really. Coming to think of it, lit editors aren’t the only lunch companions in the world, are they? There are far more influential ones. Amanda Ross for example. Yep. I’m amazed I didn’t think of her before. Silly me. I‘ll ask my PR team to send an email straight away. Amanda and me, two ladies who lunch. How about coming Friday?

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