Early night tonight, methinks. I need it after the day I’ve had. I thought my idea to hold our press conference on the beach “Cannes-style” was a winner. We keep hearing from the board about how we have to differentiate ourselves. How was I to know that a mixed volleyball team would be practising their moves right next to us! I did my best to get them to move a bit further away, but the ball bopped the CEO on the head a couple of times during his presentation.
On the other hand, the ensuing hilarity did distract from some awkward questions about our working practices during the lockdown. One reporter brought up that nonsense over one of our guys talking to clients without a shirt on. It was at the height of the heat wave! We’re in a new paradigm, and who says clients are less well-served by their broker wearing a speedo and sitting by his pool, keeping an eye on the kids while he works? I ask you.
I honestly wonder sometimes, what is the point of providing journalists with a pre-loaded press pack on a data stick that doubles as a COVID thermometer if they are going to ask inane questions?
Over dinner last night I expressly told Global Rebore magazine reporter Virginia Creeper to ask the boss about our relentless added-value, partnership-advocacy-driven approach. Instead she kept on banging on about the sodding bribery thing that happened weeks ago. Thank God I’ve got a more straightforward day of client meetings tomorrow, followed by our cocktail party on the yacht. Reminds me that I must find out if it’s safely arrived and tied up.
I think I did rather well to get hold of the Lady Wroxham at such short notice. I haven’t seen her yet, but my pal at the golf club assured me that she has real character and will stand out among the plastic-and-chrome gin palaces along the port. Certainly, you don’t often hear of yachts registered in Tirana (wherever that is)! Adds a bit of mystery, I’d say.