Today I received a rather unusual phone call from the CEO’s assistant, telling me my name had someone found it’s way onto a list of employee’s invited to one of the Buckingham Palace garden parties.
Now, I must admit, I am curious about what actually goes on at a royal garden party, and part of me would like to say “what the hell, sure, I’ll go”.
Unfortunately though, I find all of the kowtowing before anyone in a position of authority a little bit ridiculous. I mean, they’re just regular people like us, right? Two arms, two legs etc.
I know from past experience the amount of behind the scenes work that goes on for weeks before a royal visit. Walls are unnecessarily repainted, brass plaques are buffed right left and center and, oh my god, there are dead leaves on the ground. Quick, someone get a hair dryer and blow them away in case HRH spots them.
It is for this reason that I feel I must sadly decline the offer. That, and the fact that I’ll probably puke violently all over the palace lawn (and anyone unfortunate enough to be within spitting distance) as soon as someone offers me a cucumber sandwich. Oh well, cest la via.